


Am I Losing Myself?

by Prototype



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:59:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 53,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prototype/pseuds/Prototype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Institute stands on the edge of the world as far as Frank Iero is concerned. It is his shelter and his prison, trapped somewhere between his mental illness and his failing body along endless corridors of grey. Time is his construct, punctured with medication and chemical imbalances.<br/>Life is merely a passing amusement.<br/>And love is the worst chemical imbalance of them all.</p><p>Originally written in 2008.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Electric Blue

****

****

** Bulletin posted 11:03 PM 10 th December 2006-12-10 **

** From: ELETRIC BLUE **

 

_ Well, bye everyone! Thanks for the memories, you’ve all done so much for me. Well, some of you are still owed broken noses from me, but maybe when I get back, eh? I’ll miss the rest of you, you made life worth living.  _

_ I won’t forget you.  _

_ Love, Emily _

 

 

 

That was the last anyone heard of Emily Harding. At least, any of her friends. Only three people read it, and only one person replied to it. Everyone else wasn’t online or missed it in the pointless bulletins posted by MySpace whores. The next day she didn’t turn up at school and no one took it amiss. They thought she was still ill, having been electrocuted over the weekend and still recovering from a stomach bug and a nasty hangover. Her friends missed her, but they thought she would be in the next day, so they mock and laugh with her. 

But she didn’t come in the next day. 

Two of her closest friends, the ones that lived the closest as well, went by her house to see her. She’d often gone to their houses if they had been ill, to poke them and to tell them what they missed, as well as embarrass them in their pyjamas. Only, no one answered the front door. The front curtains were drawn, the lights off and no one home. They assumed she was asleep and left it at that. 

But when she didn’t reply to messages or emails, they tried again. No one answered the phone, the cars never came back. It seemed like Emily had, along with her parents, gone on holiday in the middle of the school term without telling anyone. 

Outside of school, her friends met up and wondered where she was, but no one had any clue. Not her best friends, no one. Her friend had found and then sent her bulletin to the whole network of confused people. 

Confused, upset and also rather angry, her friends realised she’d gone, and she didn’t even tell those closest to her where. 

 

The truth was, Emily didn’t want them to know. She wasn’t ashamed, but she didn’t want to upset anyone any more than just disappearing would. She didn’t want the soppy goodbyes, the tears, or any of it. She’d be back, she was sure, but right now she didn’t have a choice. The night she’d come back from the hospital with her hands bandaged and doped up on painkillers, her parents had her packing up everything and gave her just enough time to wish everyone goodbye. If her friends had managed to somehow get inside her house, and up to her room they wouldn’t have recognised it. The wardrobe was empty of clothes and DVDs and books, the walls stripped of their extensive poster and road sign collection, everything empty and bare. All that was left was a desk, a bed and the wardrobe. Even her hanging chair had been taken. The only thing left to show that a girl with a love of morbid Goth rock and spunky punk rock was the painting on her wall, the Gambit Girl she’d never quite finished. 

Her parents had piled her in the car with all her stuff as well as some of theirs and they had driven all night. The next day, early in the morning, her sister had gone to the old family home to clear up the chaos left over in the house and lock it up fully. They had even taken the cat. All that was left was an abandoned house that was once a home. 

Two weeks later, her parents returned. They were weary and seemed forty years older than they were. Lines and hollows marked their faces and they moved like jarred skeletons. And Emily wasn’t with them. 

Her friends called them endlessly, turned up at the house, tried everything to find out where the enigmatic redhead had gone to, but were told nothing, only to leave them in peace. Weeks passed and soon Emily’s name was forgotten in the role call but not in the minds of those who knew her. 

She was sorely missed. 

Only she had no idea how missed she had been. She wasn’t anywhere near home, she wasn’t even in England still. She was in America, in the one place in America she’d wanted to visit more than any other, New Jersey. She’d always wanted to go there, it was meant to be beautiful. And it was everything she thought it was going to be. At least, the bits of it she saw. She was there because she was sick. Very, very sick. 

 

On the coast of New Jersey there sat a building that neither blended with it’s surroundings nor stood out. It was almost a perfect cube of white stone, surrounded by walkways and trees. There was a little path leading down to a balcony that overlooked the sea and there was a beach bus that passed by it every morning at 10. Every morning, around 8, a small stream of people entered the building, and at 5, they all left again. It had no name, no signposts, it was just another feature of the view. 

It was known only as The Institute. 

Within it’s walls there were a number of people who never got to leave the grounds, but could roam it pointlessly. Some were so ill they couldn’t leave their beds, hooked up to life support machines that ticked and whirred and beeped. Some seemed perfectly healthy. There were old folks who sat and watched TV and played chess in the sunlight and there was a nursery for the young children within the white walls. There were middle-aged ex-business men and there were up and coming young careers women who had put their lives on hold to be at the Institute. There were also some teenagers, like Emily. In fact, there were quite a few of them. 

The reason they were all there was due to failing health, although it differs between each person. Emily had been sick her entire life, only no one had ever realised it. Her frequent stomachaches were a symptom, her headaches and nightmares another. The electric shock she’d received had aided her only in the fact she’d had her heart checked for irregularities and they’d found a serious one. Medication could only do so much, and surgery was risky. She had been brought to the Institute to be monitored and cared for. Back home, it would have cost thousands to keep her alive if her heart had continued to deteriorate. Here, she was a research project and a ward of state, the government would care for her until surgery was advanced enough to operate and stabilise her heart. And so she was stuck in the Institute, whilst her friends missed her back home. She missed them, she missed her parents and she missed her home. She had her cat and she had all her music and posters but they weren’t enough to build a new life up. 

The move not only changed her life forever, but it changed the life of another teenage suffering just like her. 

Well, maybe not just like her, but in a similar sort of fashion. 


	2. Time Of Your Life

“Frank? Frank, it’s your turn,”

Malcolm waved a hand in front of my eyes and I jumped. 

“Oh, sorry,” I muttered. My eyes fell on the chessboard again and I sighed, frowning. He was too good at this, I would never beat him. I’d been playing him for three years and two months now and I had never beaten him, no where close. I leaned forward again, resting my elbows on my knees and plaiting my fingers together, thinking what would be a least suicidal move. 

 

_Another turning point a fork stuck in the road_

_Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go_

_So make the best of this test and don't ask why_

_It's not a question but a lesson learned in time_

 

 

“Something on your mind, son?” the old man asked, and I glanced up. 

“What? No,” I shrugged, reaching out to pick up an expertly carved knight on the back of a rearing stallion and moving him somewhere safer. I didn’t play this game right, I always tried to keep my Queen and my knights safe and I didn’t care about any of the others. Malcolm had made this chess set himself, he’d been carving it for three years and I was always so careful when I moved the delicate pieces. 

“Got ya,” chuckled Malcolm, his old wrinkled hands reaching out to pick up his rook – carved into one of those amazing gothic castles with turrets and ivy and all that shit – and nudging my satanic bishop of his square, before picking him up and placing him on the edge of the board. I sighed and rubbed my fingers over my tired eyes, hanging my head. 

 

_It's something unpredictable_

_But in the end is right_

_I hope you had the time of your life_

 

 

“I don’t know why I agree to play you…you slaughter me every time,” I chuckled, looking up through my fingers. Malcolm smiled and his eyes glowed. 

“It’s because you’re a fool,” he told me in his soft whisper of a voice. I hmphed. 

“You’re not kidding,” I muttered under my breath, staring back at the board. Malcolm, despite being about seventy years older than me, was one of my closest friends. He was stuck in that wheelchair; his bones were too weak to hold him up. Literally, they lacked enough calcium deposits. They were slowly decaying and leaving him with less mobility with each week that passed. The bones in his arms and chests had been strengths with metal rods but that wouldn’t keep him alive, only make his muscles work harder at raising his arm. He didn’t care, he’d told me he was ready to die. He’d lived a good life and he was ready to let it go. When that time came anyway. 

 

_So take the photographs and still frames in your mind_

_Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time_

_Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial_

_For what it's worth it was worth all the while_

 

 

“What’s on your mind, Frank?” he asked a minute later, lighting a cigarette and raising it to his lips. Guilty pleasures. He passed me a cigarette and I lit it with my own Zippo, breathing in deeply.

“Absolutely goddamn nothing. A big blissful, smacking huge nothing. That’s the beauty about this place. There’s shit all to do,” I moaned, sighing and sending a pawn to his death. Malcolm chuckled as he knocked the poor thing off. 

“Mind your fucking language, boy,” he chuckled, vastly amused by his own joke. I laughed despite the terrible joke he’d used on me about a million times. 

“You are such a kook,” I told him as the game continued. We were sitting in the courtyard of the building, in the sun. It was a beautiful day and there were a few clouds gently puttering around the sky. The courtyard was empty except for me, Malcolm and Malcolm’s nurse as a reasonable distance.  

If I looked to the left, you could see through the glass lobby to the balcony overlooking the sea. There was a tiny line over the white stonewall you could call the sea. It was lonely. This entire place seemed lonely. 

 

_It's something unpredictable_

_But in the end is right_

_I hope you had the time of your life_

 

 

“Did you see that new girl come in, Frank my boy?” asked Malcolm, shuffling in his chair slightly. I shook my head. 

“Cute?” I asked without much interest.

“Cute enough to fill your head with much filthier thoughts than a big old nothing,” laughed Malcolm and I hung my head, chuckling at him. 

“You dirty, dirty buggar!” I laughed, looking up at his face and shaking my head. “You’re terrible,”

“And I have fun, as best I can, boy. You should go say hi to her, make her feel at home,” he nodded, stealing my beautiful Queen. I mourned her loss for minute a second, then stole his bishop. 

“No one can feel as home in this place,” I muttered darkly. Malcolm shrugged as best his sore shoulder joints would let him and sat back. 

“We can try. Checkmate,”

“Goddamit!” 

 

_It's something unpredictable_

_But in the end is right_

_I hope you had the time of your life_


	3. Story Of A Lonely Guy

 

 

After our chess game, Malcolm was wheeled back to his room and I stayed in the courtyard, feet up on the table and arms crossed. There was a chilly breeze coming from the shadows of the building and I pulled my hood up over my short black hair, my fringe flicking to the side. I cracked my fingers and picked at my black nails, trying to find that calm, boring place in my head again. I liked sitting around, just staring off in space. Time seemed to move faster that way, and it was more likely I’d fall asleep as well. 

That was my illness, if you will. I’m a sleeper. Sorta like narcolepsy, but more draining. I’d just lose all my energy and collapse into a sleep. If that wasn’t annoying enough I had the weirdest dreams and nightmares. I was here because my body reacted so violently to my dreams, I got so sick from so much sleep. And when I was sick, my energy drained even faster and I fell asleep more often. Vicious cycle really. I had to eat five times a day to keep my energy up, five meals of food that sounded nice like mashed potatoes and roast chicken and doughnuts if they weren’t stuffed full of a chemical that was meant to keep me awake, kinda like caffeine. It just made me feel like vomiting. 

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, sighing. 

 

 _Push it out_  
 _Fake a smile  
_ _Avert disaster_

_Just in time._

 

 

I hated it here. My mom hadn’t been able to afford to look after me, I was going to sleep her out of house and home. So when this offer to have me live here and take care of me pretty much until they learned everything about me and then spat me out, or until I just died. They paid Mom and they took me away. I missed home, and I missed my mom. I didn’t want to be sick, I didn’t want to put her through all the shit of five simultaneous jobs to try and afford the drugs I needed to stay awake and functioning, but I had and now I was paying for my crimes, stuck in here. 

Don’t get me wrong, this place was pretty cool. You got your own room and your own bathroom. You got a TV, games, books, clothes, whatever. You could do pretty much whatever you wanted as long as you took the pills they asked you to, jumped through a few hoops, went through weekly tests and let them prod and poke you. I was even allowed outside the compound if I checked out ok and came back when they asked me to. 

“Frank? Sweetie, pill time,” interrupted a voice. I opened my eyes and found my nurse, Jilly, standing over me with a glass of water and a cup of pills. I sighed and took them from her. As I swallowed them, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. One of the main doctors, one of the ones I knew, different department, was leading a family of three down the corridor separated from me by a sheet of glass. There was the father, looking angry and deflated, the mother who looked like someone was draining her colour, and trailing behind them was a girl. Must’ve been the new girl Malcolm mentioned. 

 

 _I need a drink_  
 _Cause in a while_  
 _Worthless answers  
_ _From friends of mine._

 

She was cute, he was right, but in a kinda freaky way. She had really really outlined eyes, she was a big fan of eyeliner, obviously. I wore eyeliner too, but she went in for it in a really black way. Beside the thick black lines, her eyes were also dusted with deep violet. It was a dramatic contrast to the pale of her skin. She looked tired and scared; her skin didn’t look like it was usually that white. She even had freckles that paled under her short vibrant blue hair. She was a kind of punk girl, lost between Goth and Emo. She was roughly my height, and very curvy. Jeans with ripped knees, a black t-shirt with a logo I couldn’t read, an open shirt and a coat being dragged behind her. Even a large amount of bracelets and chains hung on her thin wrists and a silver hoop glittered through her nose. 

She was watching me as I watched her. She didn’t seem curious, or anything like that. She mainly seemed scared. As if she was asking me to help her.  

Jilly looked over her shoulder at her as well and smiled at her. The girl dropped her eyes and hurried after her parents, disappearing. 

 

 _It's dumb to ask_  
 _Cool to ignore_  
 _Girls possess me  
_ _But they're never mine_

 

 

“I think you scared her Jilly,” I chuckled, giving her back the glass and trying not to remember the taste of pills on my tongue. Jilly smiled. 

“She’ll be fine. It’s always tough on the newbies. I remember when you first got there, you looked just like her,” she said, trying to make me smile. 

“Except I didn’t have blue hair,” I pointed out with a smile. She laughed and walked off, leaving me to my thoughts. The pills made them pretty erratic. 

 Eventually I got bored and wandered off to my room, where my dog greeted me by completely ignoring me. 

“Hey, pup,” I said, collapsing onto my unmade bed and shoving the chocolate coloured mutt to one side. He gave a little moan and rolled onto his back in his sleep, paw twitching. I clicked a few buttons on the panel next to my bed and some music started playing. 

 

 _I made my entrance  
_ _Avoided hazards  
_ _Checked my engine  
_ _I fell behind_  

 

 

My room was pretty cool actually, I had some posters up to break up the expansive of white and the floor was covered in old magazines and clothes. Lots of black, broken up with red and blue and white. In the corner my pride and joy rested against the wall, my guitar Pansy. 

There was a knock at the door and I groaned. I’d just gotten comfortable. 

“It’s open!” I called, pausing the music. The door clicked out and Jilly poked her head around. 

“Hiya Frank. Dr Roberts wants to see you,” she told me in a faux cheerful voice before varnishing. I sighed and rolled my eyes. I got up wearily and yawned, slipping my shoes back on and following her through the white corridors. I glanced down one of the adjacent corridors and saw the blue haired newbie leaning against the wall, looking into the room I guessed she’d been given. She didn’t look in my direction, just scuffed her DCs on the clean, sterile carpeting, rubbing her neck. 

   
  
 _She makes me feel like it's raining outside  
_ _And when the storm's gone I'm all torn up inside  
_ _I'm always nervous on, days like this like the prom.  
_ _I get too scared to move, cause I'm a fuckin' boy._

 

 

Entering a lift, Jilly and I went up a few floors and then she led me through a maze I knew backwards. I just stared at the floor and ran music through my head. 

I hummed under my breath, mouthing the words silently. There was nothing like music for saying all the things you ever wanted to say. Melodramatics and angst became something far more powerful when you put them to a beat. There was something universally acceptable about being a whiney little pussy or a homicidal psychopath to music. 

I continued with these thoughts until I reached Dr Roberts lab. Jilly opened the door for me and I went through into the familiar room, smiling faintly at her as she left. Dr Roberts was sitting as his desk, typing frantically. He was a middle-aged man with a balding head and a fantastic moustache. He glanced at me through fierce glasses and ushered me forward. 

   
  
 _Remember when  
_ _I was in  
_ _The grocery store  
_ _Now’s my time_

 

 

“Hi Frank, how are you feeling today?” he asked, still watching the screen. I shrugged as I sat down. 

“Tired,”

“Did you take the medication?”

“Yeah, about an hour and a half ago,” I guessed. He nodded and jotted something down. 

“Alright, come on through,” he gestured, standing up and leading me through to the clean room. As usual, I pulled off my hoodie and t-shirt, jumping up onto the bench. I lay down and he attached several leads to my chest and arms and two either side of my temple. 

The next hour or so I just skim over, I’ve been through these procedures a hundred times over, ever since I got here about three years ago. Dr Roberts would send little electric impulses through my head, through my body, write stuff down and then injections would start. Different chemicals, different concentrations, different colours, always five needles at a time in the left arm. The week after that, it’d be in the right to give them time to heal. I’m not a fan of needles, but now I’m kinda used to them. Used enough to get a few piercings with the same nonchalance I treated life. I chewed on my lipring as I let the music continue in my head.  

“Ok, Frank, we’re done,”

I’m a loner. I am always alone, even when someone else is with me. There’s silence in my head except for when I play back the soundtrack to my life. I get depressed so easily, I just slip from calm boredom into almost crippling depression, getting sad for no reason at all. I lie on my bed and just feel like I’m the only one in the world who ever feels this empty, this alone. Maybe it’s because I’m stuck in this place, where real life is twisted and set in straight lines. There’s nothing out of the ordinary here, nothing extraordinary. Nurses, doctors, health and safety. There’s no danger, no thrill to life inside these walls. I could be dead in here and no one in the outside world would know. My body is dying, my mind slipping into somewhere deep and dark where I just stare in the mirror and see more and more empty darkness. 

I’m just alone.

   
  
 _Lost the words  
_ _Lost the nerve  
_ _Lost the girl  
_ _Left the line_

 

 

If I could get out of here, get out of all of this, I’m sure I could get rid of these feeling. This feeling of pointlessness. I feel like a toy someone brought for a reason they couldn’t remember and put on the shelf in case they remembered why I had a purpose. I have no direction, nothing to aim for. I am just a creature in this world and I have nothing. I am nothing. 

It’s a depressing existence. 

Of course, now might be a good time to mention the Institute is for people with mental problems as well as psychical abnormalities. I’m a manic depressive. Joy joy, oh so much joy. I trailed down the corridor, taking my t-shirt and my hoodie with me but too drained of energy to put them on again. This always happened after my electrotherapy sessions. 

As I walked back to my room, I passed the corridor where the new girl had been sulking. Only this time she wasn’t down there, and her door was closed. As I passed by, I heard a door – I think it was hers- opened and I heard footfalls. I turned around but I found myself blinded by bright blue. The new girl had just slammed into me around the corner and toppled me over. I hit the floor and grunted in pain, the breath being knocked out of my lungs. She groaned and looked up and me, her mouth hanging open. 

 

 _I would wish_  
 _Upon a star_  
 _But that star  
_ _It doesn't shine_

 

 

“Whoops,” she mumbled, and I got a glimpse of a silver tongue stud. 

“Um…hi,” I said, peering down at her. She was lying on top of me, her hands either side of my chest, trying to keep herself from practically licking my chest. 

“Emily!” a name was called form her room and her dramatic eyes widened and she scrabbled off me, running past me and working herself into a sprint. I stayed on the floor, confused and still a bit dazed. I sat up quickly and shoved my t-shirt over my head as I heard parentals come jogging down the corridor. I guessed that in most cases, when chasing after your daughter you don’t particularly want to find a half naked boy laying on the floor, watching her run. 

Right on cue, her parents rounded the corner alongside a nurse and a doctor. They all paused, staring at me. There was a registered element of shock between all five of us. 

“Um…she went that way,” I pointed, trying to smile a bit. Her dad and the doctor ran off first, followed by her mother, and the nurse paused long enough to give me a hand up. 

“Did she hurt you?” she asked, looking up and down. I think she thought that the girl –Emily I presumed – had pushed me down or hit me or something. 

   
  
 _So read my book  
_ _With a boring ending  
_ _A short story  
_ _Of a lonely guy._

 

“No, she just ran into me, we fell over, I’m fine,” I shrugged, and she was running after the little party before I finished the sentence. I hmphed quietly, feeling a bit put out. Then I resumed my solitary walk to my room, my own deep hole. 

I wondered, as I walked, what Emily’s problem was? She obviously wasn’t fully stable, fully together in the mental sense. As I passed by one of the corridors overlooking the courtyard, I saw Emily being walked back to her room, held up at the arms by the doctor and her father, the nurse leading the mother behind. She had that dazed look in her eye, like she’d been zapped in the face. I knew that look, she’d been sedated. 

The problem with this place. It was all hugs and kisses until you grew too restless, too agitated and they forced you back down to earth. It didn’t help you deal and it did wear off. Eventually you just stop trying to escape it, lie back and take it, like me. It took me six long months on sedatives until I realised I was going to be stuck in this place until I tired myself out. After that, depression was an all too easy door to walk through, drugs or no drugs. 

Back in my room, I was too tired to do anything of the things would’ve liked to do, like play Pansy or with the mutt without a name or even surf the net for anime porn (real porn being on the internet block list). Instead I just collapsed on my bed and drifted away.      

   
  
 _She makes me feel like it's raining outside  
_ _And when the storm's gone I’m all torn up inside  
_ _I’m always nervous on days like this, like the prom.  
_ _I get too scared to move, cause I’m a fuckin' boy._


	4. Lithium

Why is it I’m always woken back to life by a knock at the door? I grumbled and opened my eyes, feeling neither rested nor happy. Thankfully, no dreams this time. 

“Who is it?” I called out sleepily, pushing my hair from my eyes. The dog with no name barked at the door, wagging his tail and scratching at the wood. 

 

_Lithium. Don’t want to lock me up inside  
_ _Lithium. Don't want to forget how it feels without  
_ _Lithium. I want to stay in love with my sorrow  
_ _Oh but God I want to let it go_

 

“It’s Jilly, pet, I’ve got a memo you have to read,” 

I groaned and rolled out of the bed, dragging myself to the door. I opened it and managed to form a smile at her. 

“Oh dear, Frank, still tired? Do you want some more –“

“Say pills and I am shutting this door,” I said moodily. She smiled and handed me the memo. 

“Look after yourself Frank,” she said, before turning away. I rolled my eyes. You couldn’t look after yourself in this place. I went back to the bed and scanned over the memo. 

Blah blah blah…new patient with paranoid tendencies, make her feel at home, don’t allow her to get overexcited, possibilities of delusions, heart problems…blah blah blah

   
  
 _Come to bed, don't make me sleep alone  
_ _Couldn’t hide the emptiness you let it show  
_ _Never wanted it to be so cold  
_ _Just didn't drink enough to say you love me  
_ _I can't hold on to me  
_ _Wonder what's wrong with me_

 

So…the new girl, Emily, has a delusional paranoid girl with a complication in her heart. If I was gonna go lyrical, I’d say insane punk girl with a permanently broken heart. Whereas me? I was a punk emo kid whose body was letting him down. 

And I appeared to be a punk emo kid who was awake and likely to be awake for the next hour before getting tired again. I could calculate myself pretty well. For every three hours of sleep I got, I got an hour’s worth of useful energy and then about half an hour when I was drained and tired and then I was out like a light. This meant if I got a seriously solid night of sleep – around 15 hours of sleep I got 7 and a half hours of being awake and then about another hour of being hopelessly drained. Of course, all these hours went up or down depending how I used them. If I didn’t do shit all, I got another hour or so to keep my eyes open. If I went out, to a concert or just for a walk, I lost a few hours. 

And I was only depressed emo boy when I was on the wind down to solid slumber. 

Ok…so I had an hour to mess around with. Maybe I should play Pansy, make sure my fingers haven’t forgotten themselves, or even go online and see if anyone sent me anything interesting back home to reply to. 

 

_Lithium. Don’t want to lock me up inside  
_ _Lithium. Don’t want to forget how it feels without  
_ _Lithium. I want to stay in love with my sorrow_

 

The dog with no name was still by the door, whimpering. Oh, ok, make my mind up for me, pooch. Time to take you out for a bit of doggy natural business. I got up, slipped my shoes on and pulled my hoodie on again, straightening my t-shirt out and making sure I didn’t have a sock stuck to my back or something embarrassing like that. Then I let him out and followed him, pulling my hood back up over my ears. I led the cute little pup through the corridors, down the stairs and out into the courtyard. Whilst he did his thing, I went and sat on my favourite bench looking out over the little fountain in the middle of the square. I crossed my legs and leant my elbows on my knees, staring at the water. 

I like to think, it’s the only thing I can do in abundance without sapping all my hard earned energy. I could imagine myself as world famous rockstar, living it up on the big stage, with so many girls I didn’t have enough space in my bunk; or as a guy dying in a hospital of something completely normal like cancer. I could be anyone, do anything, see everything. I was God and in complete control. I hate being out of control, being hopeless. And yet, I was stuck this way, stuck in this body and stuck in this life. 

   
  
 _Don't want to let it lay me down this time  
_ _Drown my will to fly  
_ _Here in the darkness I know myself  
_ _Can’t break free until I let it go  
  
_ _Let me go_

 

Oh God, was I getting depressed already? If I was gonna have to pass out soon, I wouldn’t even have time to go jerk off in the shower like I planning on doing. I groaned and rubbed my eyes, casting them to heaven. Or to the first floor, which ever was more distracting, what with the bright blue hair of the demented punk girl staring out the window at my dog. 

I raised my eyebrows, surprised. Her parents weren’t anywhere to be seen, nor the doctors. Only her, sitting with her elbows resting on the windowsill and staring blankly at my dog who was now running in circles. I couldn’t tell from this far away if she was still sedated or not. She seemed to be calmer than when I last saw her, running as fast as she could and then escorted back to her room with a heavy dose of tranquillisers pumping through her. It may just have been me, but I think she was crying. 

It was roughly about then I figured she must’ve been the loneliest person in this entire place. She didn’t seem to have anyone, not even her parents. They wanted her to stay here, to hold her here. The doctors and the nurses made a point of keeping their distance whilst being familiar enough to use your first name. Even I, the sleepy depressed boy, had a few friends here. Malcolm, and some of the more energetic boys at this place, but none of them were close to me. I was isolated, but I wasn’t lonely. She was though. She seemed to be completely alone. 

 

_Darling, I forgive you after all  
_ _Anything is better than to be alone  
_ _And in the end I guess I had to fall  
_ _Always find my place among the ashes_

 

It was about then I decided to go see her the next time I woke up, to go say hi. 

Before I went back to bed again, I went and found some food and then headed back to my room. I left the mutt running around the courtyard. I knew one of the nurses would find him and take him back to my room later. I found some cold chicken and one of those nice Marks and Spencer’s ready made pastas in the communal fridge. The nurses were nice to us, they went out and brought all these nice things to eat and we could just take whatever. I stuffed my face and wandered back to my room. 

When I rounded the last corner, I looked up and found the blue haired girl, Emily, waiting for me. She was sitting with her back against the wall, holding onto my dog and stroking it, staring into his eyes. 

“Um…hi,” I said as I came up to my door. I felt a wave of dizziness hit me, but I tried to ignore it. She didn’t look up at me, merely scratched the pooch’s ear. 

“Hi,” she said, and her mouth curved into a smile. I opened my door and the dog ran inside, leaving Emily to sit there on her own. 

“You ok?” I asked, leaning against the doorpost. Another wave. Ignore it, dude. 

“No,” she said, like it was obvious. I smirked. “If I was, I wouldn’t be here,” she hmphed. I smirked a little wider and brushed my fringe away from my eye. 

“Your parents know you’re out?” I asked, not sure what else to say. She shrugged. 

“They left. About half an hour ago, for the plane. Now it’s just me…” she sighed. I shrugged. 

“Same for pretty much everyone here. You’re Emily, right?” I asked, fighting a yawn. She nodded her glossy blue head. 

“Yep. And you are…?”

“Frank. I like the blue,” I commented. She reached a hand up to touch a blue bang resting near her eyes. 

“Me too. What’s the dog called?” she asked, before standing up. I met her dark blue eyes, surrounded by purple and black. She was still mildly sedated, but she was coming back. 

 

_I can't hold on to me  
_ _Wonder what's wrong with me_

 

“He doesn’t have a name. Why did you run?” I asked, curious. 

“Because I wanted to. I like doing what _I_ want, rather than what anyone else wants,” she said in a defiant whisper, like the walls could hear her. Weird girl “Why doesn’t he have a name?”

I shrugged, unable to keep from yawning. She didn’t seem to notice, just kept staring at me, and matching my stare. 

“He just doesn’t,” I shrugged. She looked upset by that. 

“You need a name, so you belong. Except I guess here…” she said, lifting her arm to see the tag they fastened around her wrist, identical to mine “you just need a number. Bye,” she said, and turned and walked away. I watched her go, confused, but mostly too tired to form a proper emotional response. So I went inside my room, turned down the lights and music, and went to sleep. 

 

_Lithium. Don’t want to lock me up inside  
_ _Lithium. Don’t want to forget how it feels without  
_ _Lithium. I want to stay in love with my sorrow_

 

_Oh but God I want to let it go_


	5. Straightjacket Feeling

 

My number is 46. It’s not particularly amazing. Well, my full number is 128346, but everyone has the same first four digits. It’s the last two that really give you any identity. If I wound up dead and floating down the coast one morning, they’d see my tag, scan it and get every little detail about that they wanted, and then some. They’d get everything from my name and age to my inside leg measurements, the exact composition of my blood and probably some side note about Pansy and the mutt. 

Of course, the likelihood I’d get shot and dumped in the sea is amazingly little. First off all, dumping anything in the sea gets it washed back up in the tide unless you go right out into the middle of the sea, and even then it’s very likely your body will wind up flotsam. A proper weighting trick could solve that though, I guess. 

Secondly, it’s incredibly unlikely I’ll be out anywhere I could get shot, I stick to the record stores and gig halls if I _do_ get out of here. And even then, if I did decide to wander into the bad part of town, I couldn’t get there, and back in the same trip, without falling asleep. Not unless I wanted to wake up someone’s pet bitch. 

Thirdly, if I’m gonna die, I’ll do it myself in the typical teenage cliché. Except I couldn’t decide if I liked the idea of OD on pills or slitting my wrists. I’m a bit of a pussy, I don’t like bleeding or cutting myself up. I don’t mind other people doing it – piercings and tats are fucking awesome, but razor blades across the wrists and cutting again and again to make sure I got the veins and then waiting around to bleed myself out – either in the bath so it doesn’t clot (such a click flick single mom move) or on the bed so the covers suck up the blood. Only problem in the bed is you have to make you sure keep bleeding, bleed out enough to die before they come and find me. If they get to me before I’ve lost enough, they’ll bring me back and I will _never_ get out of here. 

Yep, I’m thinking ODing is a bit classier, very drug addict Hollywood vibe. Blame it on the depression; take so many pills I lose count and just drift off into sleep, just like usual. 

Only, if I killed myself, what about my dear old mom? She relied on the money this place paid her for me. Every month a nice package of notes arrived for her, meaning she could eat and stay under a roof for another month. She’s too ill herself to get a proper job, she relies on me. If I snuff it, she’ll have nothing, no one. By bailing, I’d practically be killing her too. 

   
  
 _Back me down from backing up  
_ _Hold your breath now it's stacking up  
_ _Etched with marks, but I can deal  
_ _And you're the problem and you can't feel  
_ _Try this on, straitjacket feeling  
_ _so maybe I won't be alone  
_ _Take back now, my life you're stealing_

 

I sighed and sat up, this is common thought process. Nearly every morning I woke up, went through the same suicide thoughts, and then got up. It was 10 in the morning, I’d gotten 14 hours sleep, I would be awake for a while. I smiled to myself, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I could go out today, go and see if that CD I’d ordered had come in yet, and then go for a walk down the promenade. It sounded like a plan, so I got up and headed for my bathroom. I turned on the shower and removed my pyjama bottoms, yawning at myself in the mirror and looking for my toothbrush. I brushed my teeth in the flow of water, spitting out the mint and watching it disappear down the plughole. I wished I could just disappear like that. 

Next comes the highpoint of my day, when I put my toothbrush to one side and wrap my hand around my dick. Pumping and letting my groans escape my throat, this is the only time of day I completely forgot where I am, in that one tiny blinding moment of orgasm. I love it, the tingle the mint gives me on my member, the release. It feels good, and when you feel as bad as I constantly do, you do whatever it takes to feel good. It’s not like I have a girlfriend to do it for me – and never will in this place, unless I want a Schizo or OCD freak sucking me off. Only problem is it takes away a lot of energy, it drains me faster than it should, so I can’t do it as often as I like. Once a day and that’s my limit. 

Sighing with a smile on my face, I watch my cum drain away like the toothpaste and finish cleaning myself with the soap and shampoo, lathering up my black hair and humming to myself. But when I leave the shower, that when my mood changes. I wrap a towel around my hips and wander back into my room and receive a bit of a shock. 

   
  
 _Yesterday was over  
_ _Today I'm fine without you  
_ _Runaway this time without you  
_ _And all I ever thought you'd be  
_ _That face is tearing holes in me again_

 

“Um…Emily? What are you doing?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at the girl. She’s sitting on the floor, her back to me, and my mutt’s in front of her again, licking her face and wriggling under her fingers as she tickles and scratches it. Today she was wearing pinstripe trousers that showed off her arse, and a sleeveless top with angel wings printed on the back. She also had some wicked armbands on.  

“Playing with the dog,” she says, completely unbothered by my presence. 

“What the fuck are you doing, just letting yourself into my room?” I demanded, glaring at the back of her head, which happens to be bright blue. I still couldn’t get over how blue it was. She didn’t reply, just picked the dog up and got to her feet. 

“I knocked, but you didn’t reply. Jilly said to just go in, that’d you’d be asleep and something about you needing a wake up call,” she shrugged, looking me up and down without shame. I flushed, hitching the towel further up my hips. She was reading my tattoo, the Search And Destroy written over my hipbones and stomach. 

“Cool,” she said a second later, nodding. 

“Yeah, whatever, in future don’t just come in here unless I open the door for you, got it?” I said angrily. “What were you doing here in the first place?”

She shrugged and put the dog down, squatting down to continue her attentions to his soft fur and ears. I grabbed some clothes and went back into the bathroom to get dressed. I hoped she hadn’t heard me jerking off in the shower, but then again I didn’t really care. I wasn’t sure if we were going to get on if she was going to continue on this spontaneous appearance act. It was unnerving and annoying. I was used to structure, to routine, and I liked my space. She didn’t fit in to any of that. 

“I came to see the dog,” I heard her say over the gasping pants of aforementioned mutt. “He’s cute,”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, pulling on boxer shorts, jeans, and doing up my belt. No t-shirt, goddamit. I came back out and she glanced at up me. 

“That’s the second time I’ve seen you without a shirt,” she told me, smirking. I shrugged and pulled the first t-shirt I could find over me. 

“I was coming back from tests the other day, that’s why I didn’t have a shirt,” I explained, even though I didn’t feel the need to do so. 

 

 _Trust you is just one defence  
_ _Off a list of others, you don't make sense  
_ _Beg me time and time again  
_ _To take you back now, but you can't win  
_ _Take back now, my life you're stealing_

 

“Do they hurt?” she asked suddenly. I turned to her. 

“Huh?”

“Do the tests hurt?” she repeated, and I could see she was scared of them. Really scared. I shrugged. 

“Depends how high your pain barrier is, I guess. I don’t mind them,” I told her, searching for socks in the mess of my room. She went and sat down on my bed, still playing with the dog. She was spoiling that thing, giving it way too much attention. 

“I’m gonna hate this place,” she said sadly to it, cradling the pup on her lap. I looked up and felt guilty. I went and sat down next to her. 

“Hey, it’s not that bad. If you don’t look, it’s just like being pinched,” I said with the best smile I could manage. The corner of her mouth twitched and I went looking for socks again. 

“How long have you been here?” she asked, putting the dog back on the floor. She sat back her feet, grinning. 

“Three years,” I replied, picking up a pile of jeans and hoodies, and seeing a single sock under it. 

“How do you stand it?” she asked, looking miserable. 

“I got used to it, eventually. I hated it at first, I kept trying to run away, kept trying to get out of here or cause trouble, but it got me nowhere. Now I just try and ignore how much I hate it,” I shrugged. When I looked over at her, she was bent over herself, face hidden in hands and I think she was sobbing. 

“Hey, hey, chill!” I said, going back over to her. I touched her shoulder and knelt down in front of her. “It’s shit, but you get used to it,” I shrugged. She didn’t look at me, just sat there and tried to control herself. When she finally did, her skin was red and her eyes bloodshot. Her makeup was not as wonderful as it had been, and she looked miserable. Very miserable. Just as miserable as me, to be honest. 

   
  
  
 _Yesterday was over  
_ _Today I'm fine without you  
_ _Runaway this time without you  
_ _And all I ever thought you'd be  
_ _That face is tearing holes in me again_

   
  
 _And all the things you put me through  
_ _I'm holding on by letting go of you_

 

“I don’t want to be here, I wanna go back home again,” she said in the smallest voice ever. I smirked. 

“I think we all do,” I said, but she shook her head. 

“I wanna go back to having no idea what was wrong. When it was just a stomach virus and dehydration, and now it’s a fucking muscle fold in my heart and shortages of blood in vital organs and all this shit,” she complained. I bit my lip. 

“That sounds nasty,” I agreed. Internally I had been rolling my eyes at this overdramatic girl, she was getting way too stressed, but now I was cringing for her. She did sound like she had it bad. 

“It fucking sucks. I just wish I didn’t know…then when I died, it’d be a surprise rather than expected,” she shrugged. 

“You think you’re gonna die?” I asked. She nodded. 

“They can’t help me. It’s gonna be the death of me,” she said resolutely. I nodded. 

“Yeah…I know the feeling. I’m guessing right now you’re feeling…homesick, abandoned, hopeless, depressed, maybe angry,” 

She was nodding, sniffing and drying her eyes. I kept listing, remembering how I felt when I had first arrived here. 

“You feel like you’re already in a morgue, almost trapped and like they’re waiting for you to just die so they can cut you up and figure you out. You feel watched, observed, but also like no matter what you do you’re an invisible statistic, a name that means nothing to nobody and you’re so completely alone you might as well be dead. You’re angry at your parents for giving you up, you’re angry at yourself for being so sick to be here, you’re angry because you’ve been taken away from everything you love. You feel frustrated, choked, and you’ve just started to wake up to that sinking feeling that you’re stuck here and it’s going to be _so_ incredibly boring,” I said, staring at a safety pin jammed through the hem of her jeans, as well as the bright rainbow laces trailed from scuffed leather army boots. 

   
  
  
 _And when the memory slips away  
_ _There will be a better view from here  
_ _And only lonesome you remains  
_ _And just the thought of you I fear  
_ _It falls away_

 

“You feel like you’re a ghost, unable to hurt anyone but hurt so much. You feel like no matter how loud you scream, no one would even say ‘shh’ or ask you what’s wrong, they’d just stick in a needle and walk away. You feel like you’ve been running and hiding at the same time, furious and like you’re crying without feeling it at the same time. Like you could die and not feel the difference. Like no one cares,” I finished. She didn’t say anything, and eventually I raised my eyes to look at her. Her tears had stopped, her face completely blank except for those irises. She looked ready to crack, like I’d just told her everything she’d wanted to hear, like I’d understood. Then she slammed to the floor on her knees and threw her arms around me. 

“Thank God, you get it,”

 

 

 _Yesterday was over  
_ _Today I'm fine without you  
_ _Runaway this time without you  
_ _And all I ever thought you'd be  
_ _That face is tearing holes in me again_

   
  
 _And all the things you put me through  
_ _I'm holding on by letting go of you_


	6. The Cure For Growing Older

I wasn’t so sure about her, she was odd. I was sure she had the split personality thing, but maybe she just had those mood swings girls were meant to get really badly. One minute she was in tears, depressed and suicidal, and now she was bubbly and rabbiting on about the dog’s name. 

“I think you should call him 6655321, like Alex from A Clockwork Orange,” she said, walking with me and the dog to the lobby. I hadn’t invited her, she just kinda of fell into step beside me, and me beside her. She was a voice I felt like listening to. 

“That’s quite cool actually,” I said, raising my eyebrows. I found it quite funny too. Ironic that the sanest creature in this place, my mutt, would have a name relating to the worst. 

“Why didn’t you ever name him?” she asked, holding his lead. I shrugged. 

“Just got used to changing his name and referring to him as the dog, I guess. He had so many names I forgot half of them,” I told her as we drew up to the receptionalist desk. She smiled at Emily, the new girl, and looked at me. 

“Going out?” 

   
  
 _I found the cure to growing older,  
_ _And you're the only place that feels like home.  
_ _Just so you know, you'll never know.  
_ _And some secrets weren't meant to be told,  
_ _But I found the cure to growing older._  

 

 

“Yeah, for…two hours I guess,” I said, checking my watch and doing a quick calculation. If I went out, and came back in two hours, I’d have an hour and a half to do something else. The chick looked at Emily and made one of those smug ‘I’m so sorry’ faces. 

“Sorry, dear, but you can’t go out yet. We have a policy that anyone under sedatives aren’t allowed out for at least 12 hours,” she said. Emily looked crushed. 

“It’s so you don’t accidentally walk into the road or something,” I told her. She still looked unhappy about it. 

“Besides, you have an appointment with Dr Mile,” said the chick, smiling sickly. Emily looked faintly terrified. 

“What kind of appointment?” she asked, biting her lip and fiddling with her tag under the woman’s viewpoint. I glanced at her bright green and silver nails fiddling with the tag and remembered that uneasy feeling the place gave you. The leash. 

“Just an introduction, nothing else,” the woman told her. I touched Emily’s arm (and for the first time noticed she was an inch or so taller than me. Goddammit) and drew her away. 

“Chill, she’s just going to talk to you, no needles. Hey, look, I’m going out now, but…” I had a feeling I might regret this but… “I’ll come by your room later and say hi, ok? Not for long though,” I told her. She smiled faintly, staring at the floor with those misty eyes, and nodded. 

“That’d be nice,” she said simply, giving me the lead, then turned away and left the lobby. A few seconds later she appeared again and went the other way, lost already. I smirked to myself and left the building, taking 6655321 with me. It was warm outside, with a sea breeze with a vague chill. I zipped up my hoodie and wandered off towards town. I wondered if any of the vaguely cool guys I’d come to know were out today. 

   
  
 _I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends.  
_ _And I am sorry my conscience called in sick again.  
_ _And I've got arrogance down to a science.  
_ _And I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends._

 

Turning into the main high street of the seaside town, I noticed with distaste it was full of people shopping and sitting around in the cafes. It was near the end of summer, and people were beginning to realise they didn’t have too long to laze around anymore. I pulled 6655321 away from some chick’s shopping and stuck to the edge of the street, looking in the shop windows for any sign of the closest people I had to friends here. I really shouldn’t have bothered; I knew they’d been at a record store. 

“Hey guys, look. Look who’s out of the rat-trap!” called one of them as I entered the shop. There were four of them, all playing cards on the glass counter of the store. My best mate works here, he lets them waste their time as long as he doesn’t get the blame. 

“Hey Mikey,” I said, smiling a bit as 6655321 barked and strained to get to the closest dude, the blond guy known as Bob. Ray got up off his stool and slapped my hand, grinning. 

“Where’re been, mate? It’s been a while since we last smelt you,” he laughed. I shrugged and sat down. 

“Been tired,” I told them, as Mikey and Bob both decided to hug me just so they could squeeze the hell out of me. “Ouch,” I chuckled, rubbing my eyes as they released me. Mikey picked up 6655321 and cuddled him. 

“Who’s a cute wittle doggy? Who’s a cute wittle puppy? Yes you are, yes you are!” he did the whole baby talk thing, tickling its stomach and making more of a fuss than Emily did, despite the fact he had balls. 

“Dude, the dog’s called 6655321 now, this girl at the rat-trap called him,” I shrugged, picking up Ray’s hand and looking over the cards. “Fold,” I advised.

   
  
 _Douse yourself in cheap perfume it's s_ _o fitting, so fitting of the way you are.  
_ _You can't cover it up. Can't cover it up._

 

 

“Why 66553…um,” Bob lost his place. 

“21,” I finished. “Clockwork Orange reference, we thought it was pretty ironic,” I told them, grinning. 

“And whose this ‘we’?” asked Gerard, reappearing from the back of the shop with a box of new CDs for the shelves. “Hey Frank,” he grinned, putting it down long enough to give me a one armed hug and then got back to work. He looked like a right gimp in his black work polo and scruffy jeans, but he still wore his bracelets around his wrists, probably to hide the scars he doesn’t think the shop owner knows about. I ruffled his messy black hair as we walked past. 

“’We’ would be this new girl, the latest psycho for the freak show,” I told him, looking back at the other guys. We’re a weird bunch of guys, all into punk rock and that kind of stuff. There’s the blond one, Bob, careful and quiet, but not slow. He’s the joker, the one who’s most likely to spend a week inside playing one of the best practical jokes you’ve ever laid eyes on and takes none of the credit. He just smiles and goes to amuse himself elsewhere. 

Ray’s the musical psychopath, he plays his guitar and the piano and the drums and all that stuff, but Ger’s the singer. He’s obsessed with music, he knows every band out there, knows all the terminology, all that shit. He spends all his time composing, practising, listening and analysing. And when he’s not doing that, he hanging out with these guys.

Then there’s Mikey who likes the blues and jazz, but doesn’t look it in his browny blonde messy fringe, beanie and thick glasses. He’s Gerard’s kid brother, but sometimes you’d never realise he was three years younger, he was smarter, quicker, and often far more wiser than his brother (as in he didn’t play with razors and hang out at clubs for wannabe vampires). 

   
  
 _Find a safe place, brace yourself, bite your lips.  
_ _I'm sending your fingernails and empty bottles you've sipped,  
_ _Back to your family 'cause I know you will be missed.  
_ _So you can find a safe place, brace yourself._

 

 

“Sounds fun, she cute?” asked Bob. I shrugged. 

“Sure, in a ‘I wanna bail’ way. She’s kinda freaky, and rude and insane and colourful…and all that medication is making her chubby,”

“Nothing wrong with chubs,” called Gerard, who’d worked hard over the summer to lose weight, after his depressive ‘my life sucks’ episode that almost had him in with me at the Institute. 

“And it’s not like you’re not packing pounds too,” pointed out Ray, reaching out to poke my own roll of excess pill fat. 

“Oi! I didn’t say it was, but it does make her a lot more solid. She’s got huge tits,” I said, grinning. 

“Well that’s always important, “ smirked Mikey. 

“So…sparks flying?” asked Bob, the romantic. I shrugged. 

“Not really. She’s cute, but I’m never in the mood for a girlfriend, too much drama, too much work. Plus, two nutjobs equals one disaster,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t want the hassle,”

“Yeah, because girls are so easy to find in this two bit town! They’re all tourists and skanks, you might be being a little hasty,” said Ray. I shrugged. 

“I get your point, it’s not like I meet too many chicks, but I dunno. It feels kinda pointless,” 

“Why? Because you spend all the time asleep?” asked Mikey. 

“No, because we both feel like we’re gonna be dead before we get to our next birthdays. It sucks,” I moaned. 

“Here we go again,” sighed Ray, getting up to go the bathroom. I snorted. 

“Am I really that predictable?”

“In a word, yep, but that’s ok, we love you anyway,” said Gerard, coming back to the counter and leaning his elbows on it, smiling warmly. “I like the sound of her. Name?”

“Emily,” I sighed. 

“Age?”

“Dunno, ours?”

“Type?”

“Punk Goth girl, blue hair, black clothes, rainbows and loads of random bracelets and stuff,”

“Ooh, sounds kinky! Moody?”

“Yep, she gets depressed easily,”

“So do you. Violent?”

“Likely,”

“Well, she sounds fun. You should get to know her properly before rejecting the idea of dating her,” said Gerard, grinning.

   
  
 _They call kids like us vicious and carved out of stone,  
_ _But for what we've become, we just feel more alone.  
_ _Always weigh what I've lost against what I left.  
_ _So progress report: I am missing you to death._  

 

“Oh please, where am I supposed to take her? I only get a few decent hours out a day, she has a heart condition so she can’t get over excited, and she’s not allowed out with she’s sedated. Based on what I’ve seen so far, she’ll be sedated for a long time, she keeps trying to run away,” I told them. 

“Why?” asked Bob, frowning.

“Her parents dumped her here, then buggared off, and she hates it,” I shrugged, dropping my eyes, remembering how miserable it felt to be left there. Ok, maybe I should give her a chance before rejecting her so soon after her parents did. 

“No wonder, if I was stuck inside that place you are, I’d bail at any chance too,” said Ray coming back. I rolled my eyes. 

“Gee, isn’t that helpful. I know it sucks, thank you,” I muttered, sulking. Ger reached over and ruffled my head. 

“Chill, Frank, it’s not that bad. You’ve got somewhere to stay, three meals a day, TV and an allowance to drool over, you’ve got it easier than most kids our age,” he said, trying to cheer me up, like he always does. I don’t know how a guy who gets so deeply depressed and near suicidal as he does can be as cheerful and kind as he is now. I smiled back at him, as Bob stood up, pushing 6655321 back into my hands. 

“It was cool seeing you Frank, come out soon, alright? We’re here most days,” he said, hugging my shoulders. 

“Where ya going?” I asked, confused. 

“Me, Ray and Mikes are going to check the unemployment board at the civil centre,” said Bob as they all hugged me goodbye and left, leaving me and my best friend alone. 

“Been sleeping well?” asked Gerard, leaning over to pull my t-shirt sleeve up, admiring the needle marks in the muscle. I shrugged. 

“Same as usual. I gotta get back in about an hour, or I’ll tire out,” I said softly. 

“You hate the fact your body keeps wearing out, dontcha?” said Gerard sympathically. I nodded. 

“Can we move on from that subject? We both know how shitty it is, let’s talk about something else, please?” I asked. Gerard nodded. 

“Alright, tell me more about Emily,”

I groaned. 

   
  
 _Douse yourself in cheap perfume it's s_ _o fitting, so fitting of the way you are  
_ _You can't cover it up. Can't cover it up_

 

 

“Anything but her, she’s giving me a headache,” I sighed, rubbing my forehead. Gerard chuckled, picking at his black nails. 

“I feel sorry for her. She’s just been dumped in that place, she’s got no friends and a horrible condition. She’s lonely, angry and probably in all sorts of mental, emotional and psychical pain,” he said softly. “Now she sounds like a handful, and she sounds just like the kind of girl you don’t get around here, no matter how hard you look, she sounds real and fun and probably has some exciting depths so something,” he giggled. 

“Then why don’t you date her?” I said moodily, a bit pissed off everyone assumed that just because a new girl moved into the rat-trap, I had to date her. I mean, what if she was neurotic? Or smelt funny? They didn’t consider these things. 

“I’ve got a girl, and plus, I wasn’t saying date her, I was saying get to know her, be her friend. Everyone can use them,” he smiled and I couldn’t help it, I smiled too, reaching out to grip his shoulder. 

“Yeah, we really can,” I said sappily. 

   
  
 _Someone old.  
_ _No one new.  
_ _Feeling borrowed.  
_ _Always blue._

 

Truth was, if it wasn’t for Gerard, I probably would’ve tried to kill myself by now, Mom or not. I mean, the guys were great, but Gerard and I had been through a lot together. I’d been with him when he tried to kill himself, I found him bleeding on the bathroom floor, his wrists cut and his eyes flooded with tears. I called the ambulance and I stayed with him, I talked him down and I convinced to hang on, for me. We promised each other never to give up, never to roll over and let life take us without a fight. We’d be there forever for each other. 

He took it to heart, because within a month or so, he’d gotten a job, gone willingly into therapy and even found himself a girl who wasn’t a whore or a headcase, some gothic chick called Sophia who came to see him at the shop every afternoon so they could make out behind the CD racks. He adored her, from what I could tell. 

I’d helped him by making him promise, and I couldn’t let him down either. 

“Alright, I’ll hang out with her. I was thinking of bringing her out tomorrow, do ya mind?” I asked. He shook her head, threading hair behind his ears as he did. 

“Nah, bring her along, I’d like to meet her,” smiled Gerard. I grinned and yawned, a habit that never went away. 

“That is, if we can both get away tomorrow,” I said grimly. 

   
  
 _Someone old.  
_ _No one new.  
_ _Feeling borrowed.  
_ _Always blue.  
_ _I found the cure to growing older._

_  
_ _I found the cure to growing older._


	7. Seven Minutes In Heaven

“So where abouts did you live? What kind of area?” I asked her. We were at the Institute, in her room. We were lying on her spotlessly made bed, staring up at the ceiling. 6655321 was asleep on Emily’s stomach, going up and down in rhythm. 

“I lived near San Fran, there was a school there I had my heart set on…creative arts school with a design curriculum worth drooling over. It was one of those revolting suburban areas, with nice cars and gardens and housewives and where all the kids hang out together and play ball…”

“Only I take it, not you?” I asked, intrigued. She shook her head. 

“I was one of those kids parents wish they could wrap back up and send back to the warehouse, marked with a stamp saying ‘unsuitable content’. Even before I knew my heart was folding and that I was a nutjob, I was a spaz,” she chuckled, as if those memories were something the world had never seen before and no one would ever understand. 

“Tell me, you’re dying to brag,” I said flatly and she hmphed.  

“Ok. The usual, bunk school, smoke, hang out with the worst crowd possible, get high, come home late, loud music, insolence, get kicked out of school a few times, disappear for days on end, burn stuff, trash stuff, all sorts of shit everyone gets into. Then I started getting in loads of fights, ending up in hospital a lot. That’s when they found my heart thing,” she finished quietly.

“Next thing you know, you’re shipped out here,” I sighed. She shook her head. 

“It took them a while before they sent me here. I had this band, this shitty four piece punk band. We sucked, but we had fun. Everytime I sang with them, I’d get these pains, and sometimes I’d collapse. It got bad when we got our first proper gig, paid and all. We played the best show we ever did, the audience actually seemed to like us, and then I just keeled over and pretty much died,” she said in a monotone, ‘I don’t care’ voice. I glanced at her. 

“Died?”

“Only for a bit…CPR and all that, got me going again,” she shrugged, sitting up and dislodging the pup onto me, getting up and going over to the boxes her family had brought, and started rifling through them. 

“So you actually died?!” I asked, shocked. She nodded, running a hand through her blue hair. “Did it hurt?”

 

_I'm sleeping my way out of this one,  
_ _With anyone who will lie down.  
_ _I'll be stuck fixated on one star,  
_ _When the world is crashing down._

 

“Like fuck, but that’s only cos it was my heart ripping itself up,” she said, shrugging. She didn’t find what she was looking for, sighed and came back to sit on her side of the bed. She flopped down next to me and groaned. 

“I can’t believe it…you died. What was it like?” I asked, vaguely excited. It wasn’t like you got to talk to someone who’d legally died everyday. She didn’t answer for a bit, staring upwards, frowning a bit. 

“There’s this…thing that happens when you die…the memory cells or whatever in your head get opened and you suddenly remember everything, only you’re dead so it’s useless. But when you come back, you get everything. Not just, I remember what I did for my 4 th birthday party, more like, I remember every tiny little detail of my life,” she whispered, like it was forbidden. 

“What did you remember?” I asked, turning my head to watch her speak. 

“I remembered…I remembered the first time my parents took me to school, and how scared I was all day and how pointless it felt afterwards. I remembered this video game my dad brought for me which I completed in a day, I can still remember every control movement you needed to complete it…I remembered my grandmom while she was still alive, and I remembered stuff like when I was 6, how my babysitter sexually abused me, and how when I was 9 I cut myself with my dads razor so he’d listen to me. I remembered every insult my dad had ever called my mom, every fight. And I remembered corny stuff like the smell of autumn leaves, or apple pie or the crunch of snow…it was a lot to take in,” she sighed. 

“Fuck,” I whispered. She looked at me, confused. “You must’ve had the worst headache ever,”

She stared at me, then started laughing. 

“No kiddin!” she giggled, covering her mouth with her hands and giggling. 6655321 woke up and barked at her, which only made her laugh harder. I couldn’t help it, I laughed too, it was infectious.  

  _I keep telling myself,  
_ _I keep telling myself,  
_ _I'm not the desperate type,  
_ _But you've got me looking through blinds._

 

“So, your turn, where’d you live?” she asked, her eyes sparkling. I shrugged. 

“Same old New Jersey, little pisshole called Belleville,” I shrugged. “Sorta a no future place, somewhere you spend you’re entire life trying to get out of, both physically and mentally. It gets to you, this thought that no matter how far you get for it, you’ll always end up back there, with an unhappy wife, disillusioned children and a hell all of your own,” I said in my depressed way. Emily raised an eyebrow. 

“Sounds shitty,”  
”Yep, pretty much,” I agreed, smirking. 

“So how’d you get out? What brought you here?” she asked, looking back up at the ceiling. I shrugged as best I could whilst lying down. 

“You mean my med condition?” I asked. 

“Yep, you know all about mine,” she said. “Fair trade,”

“All right. I’m a manic depressive, I wallow and I’m good at it. As for the other thing? Well, I sleep. I’ve got some sort of drain going on permanently, it takes a lot of energy to do anything, and I fall asleep a lot for a long time…one day I’m worried I’ll fall asleep and never be able to wake up,” I told her. I’d only ever told Gerard that before, I didn’t know why I’d said that. She didn’t say anything, just looked at me. 

“Why do I get the feeling…you kinda want that to happen?” she said in a tiny whisper. I could feel myself getting angry, on the defensive, but at the same time, not caring. So what, she could see through me. 

“Why do I get the feeling…you wished no one had brought you back?” I asked her. We watched each other for a little bit, then she looked away.  

_I keep telling myself,  
_ _I keep telling myself,  
_ _I'm not the desperate type._

 

“It’d be easier, I guess, just to be dead. To not be here anymore, even to see if people missed you or not. Back home, if I’d died…people would’ve missed me, my family, my band, my friends. Here, if I died, I’m just a name on a list, a moment of silence and life goes on. It sucks to feel so unimportant,” she sniffed. I nodded. 

“I know the feeling…I mean, I have some friends here, one of them very close to me, but there’s always this idea that when I die, no one will care. That they’ll move on without me,” I said, starting to feel depressed. She looked at me again. 

“Was that the guy you mentioned? Gerard?” she asked. I remembered I’d mentioned his name as I came in to see her. I nodded. 

“Yeah, Ger. He’s my best friend and he’s just as suicidal as we are, worse even. He tried to cut loose…but I pulled him back, saved him,” I told her. She touched my arm. 

“Are you worried he might not be able to save you?” she asked. I didn’t say anything, just swallowed. Yeah, that did worry me. In a place like this, I could be dead for days before they check. In this place, I was alone. Except, it seemed, for Emily. I looked at her. 

“I just wish I didn’t need to worry about being pulled back. I wish I could cope on my own,”

   
 _I'm sitting out dances on the wall.  
_ _Trying to forget everything that isn't you.  
_ _I'm not going home alone,  
_ _'Cause I don't do too well.  
_ _Sitting out dances on the wall.  
_ _Trying to forget everything that isn't you.  
_ _I'm not going home alone,  
_ _'Cause I don't do too well on my own._

 

She smiled at me. 

“It’s ok…we all feel like that. But we all need other people, to keep us here. To give us a reason to be around, y’know?” she said. I nodded. 

“I get what you mean,” I sighed. “It’s just…I feel like there’s no point doing anything. There’s no point in making friends, or keeping them. There’s no point studying for exams, or trying to keep a job, or even to eat. Eventually, we’re dead meat and that’s it. Pointlessness,” 

She sat up and twisted around, sitting cross-legged next to me. She moved so she was sitting next to my head, and for comforts sake, I moved my head onto her lap, letting her green nails play with my hair as I stared off into space. 

“I used to think that was the best part of life,” she said, as she played. “That no matter what shit I got up to, no matter who I upset or disappointed or hurt, it didn’t matter cos we all ended up the same way, stuck in a hole in the ground,” 

“This is a really depressing conversation…” I said in realization. She nodded.

“But I don’t feel depressed. How about you?” she asked. I shrugged. 

“Surprisingly, I don’t feel depressed. Kinda tired, kinda hungry, but not depressed. It’s ok though, because I’ll make up for it later,” I smirked. She chuckled. 

“Do you like being depressed?” she asked me, curious in a kind of naïve way. It struck me she didn’t really feel depression. She felt abandonment, sorrow, anger, but depression was a dish most teenagers (no matter what they claim) never try. It’s not lying on your bed listening to sad music and thinking about that girl who shot you down, it’s far more vague, more overwhelming. It’s like this massive, choking weight settle on top of you, completely take away your ability to do anything. It’s disorientating and way worse than everyone takes it for. It’s not moping; it’s loss of everything that makes you a person. 

It’s living death. 

“I guess I do…in a really morbid way. I guess I like the fact there’s something that makes me this way, not just me and my lack of do shit all,” I shrugged, raising my eyebrows. 

   
 _The only thing worse than not knowing,  
_ _Is you thinking that I don't know.  
_ _I'm having another episode.  
_ _I just need a stronger dose._

 

“I used to think that way about my heart, I was proud that what I was doing onstage was so harsh I was slowly killing myself, it was a creepy teenage poetic bullshit. Now, I just wish I was ok,” she snorted. I nodded, looking up at her from where I was. She really was crazy, but she was my kinda crazy. She had gone through the same period of self-loathing, of self-infliction and self-consciousness I had. That feeling of pointlessness, the abandonment, everything. 

It was a total eye-opener to how much there was to share with this girl. Maybe dating her wouldn’t suck too bad after all. 

“Hey, do you wanna come out with me tomorrow? The guys wanna meet you,” I told her. She shrugged, nodded and smiled. 

“Sure, as long as I don’t do something stupid like put my fist through a wall or have a mini break down,” she giggled. I grinned, and sat up, swinging my legs off the bed. 6655321 barked indignantly, jumping into Emily’s lap for me. 

“Come on, I wanna show you something cool,” I said, offering her my hand. She glanced at it and then took it, grinning as I pulled her up. 6655321 jumped around us, barking and panting. I clipped on his lead, handed it to her and began to lead her towards her door, opening it. 

“Oh, hi Jilly,” I said, realising she was about to knock on the wood. She looked between me and Emily, even glancing down at 6655321, and her eyebrows almost went through the roof. 

“Making friends, Emily dear?” she asked with a smile. Emily nodded. 

“He didn’t scare me off like you said he would,” she chuckled, twitching her head. 

“Where are you two off to?” she asked, handing Emily the pills in the little plastic cup she’d been holding. I watched Emily swallow them, then take a long drink of water. Jilly handed me mine as well. With these, I had half an hour left before I got drained.

“Frank was about to show me something,” shrugged Emily. Jilly smiled, and looked back at me. 

“Alright then, be careful. You watch those energy levels, and you missy, watch out for that heart,” she said, turning away. I met Emily eyes and we both smiled. 

“Oh, I will,” she said. 

   
  
 _I keep telling myself,  
_ _I keep telling myself,  
_ _I'm not the desperate type,  
_ _But you've got me looking through blinds._


	8. You Belong To Me

“You’re crazy, you realise that?” I laughed, leading her up the stairs. 

“I am not, it’s true!” giggled Emily, grinning in her insane ‘My life is one boiling mass of lunacy’ way. “Big Bird is fucking terrifying!” she said again, and I couldn’t stop from laughing at her. 

“You know what?” I said as we reached the top of the stairs and I took her hand again and led her over to the rail of the balcony. The sun was almost setting, and the view over the sea was one of the most gorgeous things I had ever seen in my life, and probably would ever see. “I totally agree with you,”

She had completely forgotten what we’d been talking about, too stunned by what I’d brought her to come see. 

 

_See the pyramids along the Nile  
_ _Watch the sunrise from the tropic isle  
_ _Just remember darling all the while  
_ _You belong to me_

 

Ok, imagine if you will, an ocean. Not just a crappy little grey line of water and then the sky stretched back over you. I’m talking about a huge, blue mass of movement so minute in the distance they is just appears to be writhing solid chunk of sea. It’s amazing enough in the day, with this huge expanse of blue and then the pale mirror image in the sky, often peppered with clouds and then of course that big old sun. Usually, in the day, it’s a sight that’ll suck you in and make you stare at it for hours and hours and hours. 

But, take all that and sink the sun down onto the horizon and change the blues to the deepest purple, the most violent reds and the brightest golds. It’s the most beautiful, the most fragile and possibly the most powerful thing I’ve ever seen. It’s not frozen, it’s not like a picture on the wall that you can look at whenever you need to, it’s time and space and life. 

It’s only there for half an hour of every day – a time I can’t always guarantee I’ll have to spare – and I love it. I love it more than I love my guitar, my mom, or even my pulse. If I had the choice, when I died, I would sit here, on this ledge, day after day after day. I would watch the clouds move lazily, watch the rain come and go, just for that magical half an hour when the sun sunk away and faded into midnight blues and silver starlight. 

And I’d even get to see the dawn without ever needing to sleep again. 

Yeah, to be a permanent fixture – a gargoyle or some sort of fixed angel – and just stay in this place, watching. I didn’t need to eat, breathe, sing or even jack off, as long as I was here. 

   
 _See the market place in old Algiers  
_ _Send me photographs and souvenirs  
_ _Just remember when a dream appears  
_ _You belong to me_

 

“So…whatcha think?” I asked in a hushed voice, the same voice you use in church when you can’t take your eyes off the cross. Emily made this little tiny noise in the back of her throat, her mouth open in amazement. 

“It’s…it’s so beautiful,” she whispered, leaning down to rest her elbows on the metal bar running around the balcony. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from it, and neither could I. I leaned over to mirror her, netting my fingers together loosely. 

“This is the best thing this place has to offer,” I said. She nodded. 

“No shit,”

We stared at it for a bit longer, and I sighed and checked my watch. Fifteen minutes and counting, I had fifteen minutes to see the sunset, say goodbye to Emily and say goodnight. 

“Hey, Emily…where do you want to belong?” I asked her softly. She tore her eyes away from the sunset to glance at me, confused as hell. I glanced at her as well, the deep red light colouring her face and turning her hair into a deep purple haze. Her eyes looked even darker, but at the same time she looked so much more fragile and human, and sane than she had at any other time. 

“Belong?” she asked, looking back at the sunset. “There’s a notion…”

“I mean…where do you want to be? What kind of life do you want to belong to you?” I asked. I had asked myself this question every day ever since I came here. I don’t mean I daydreamed about the life I should have had, or wished and wished. I mean I asked myself what I wanted from life, what I wanted to achieve, to gain. I set myself the same goals everyday and by the end of the day, as I fell asleep, I watched them die and then be reborn the next morning. 

“I guess…I want the life that only comes when you’re struggling to make ends meet because of the choices I’ve made. I want to be somewhere I chose to be, doing something I chose to do, being someone I wanted to be…” she whispered, her eyes glazing over as she said it. I nodded, I wanted the same thing. 

 

  
_And I'll be so alone without you  
_ _Maybe you'll be lonesome, too_

 

“Where would you live?” I asked, entering her fantasy. 

“San Fran, good old San Fran…in this warehouse loft apartment I saw being used as an art gallery once. I’d turn it into my own little heaven…” she grinned, leaning her chin on her palm. 

“Car?” I asked. 

“Dormobile – one banged up mystery machine covered in the kind of graffiti art they do on sheets of acid tabs,” she said, clearly and with a grin of true lust. I grinned myself. 

“Husband?”

“Maybe, I’m not so sure about marriage. Whoever married me would have to be very tolerant,” she chuckled. I grinned again, imagining what a dysfunctional and insane relationship she would have with a husband. Would be like a rollercoaster in reverse. 

“Kids?”

“2. Girl, boy,” she nodded, sure of it. I raised my eyebrows. 

“Names?”

“Seth and Eve,” she nodded. 

“Wow….all pretty planned out. I shudder to ask, but pets?”

“A dog, a big chocolate dog one with a big smile and a studded collar my teenage boy can walk around town with his friends. A black and white cat my daughter can cuddle up to on the sofa in her room, or play with for hours on end,” she told me, fast forwarding and rewinding through her kid’s lives “And either a monkey or a parrot to keep me entertained,” 

“Nice…” I commented. It did sound pretty fun. 

“Your turn. Where do you want to belong?” she asked me as the sky deepened to purple. Ten minutes.

 

_Fly the ocean in a silver plane  
_ _See the jungle when it's wet with rain  
_ _Just remember 'til you're home again  
_ _You belong to me_

 

“I’ve got itchy feet, I can’t stay in one place too long. For me, it’d be a bus, with a band of friends, just hang out and play music and be the best we can be, driving through the world. Wife, sure, kids, sure, pets, sure. I don’t mind so much as long as it happens when I want it, but I can’t stay grounded. It’d be the death of me to stay in one place too long,” I told her, giving hint to a desire I’d kept close to my chest ever since I first started listening to bands like Green Day and The Clash…

“I was in a band…it’s fun. You should do it,” she said firmly. I glanced at her. 

“You’re joking right? I’m a mechanical boy, I can program how long I’m awake. I can’t be in a band, I barely get enough time in the day to see my friends!” I chuckled. She shrugged. 

“You’ve got enough time to jack off in the shower though,” – Crap, she did hear me –“And you’ve got _enough_ time to go see your friends and practise your guitar. It’s about attitude Frank, and you’ve seriously got to stop rolling over and letting it go. You need some backbone if you’re gonna get where you’re going,” she said firmly, and ducked her head, hair hiding her face. 

“Tough words. You ok?” I asked. She shook her shaggy head and looked up and the fast disappearing sun. 

“No…I’m really, really not. I wanted to do what you can do – I wanted to be in a band and rock out and travel and do something monumental with my friends…but I can’t. My heart won’t even let me do a decent showcase! But you…you’ve got the opportunity, and for the fuck of God, I wish you would bother to take it,” she muttered angrily. I reached out and touched her shoulder. 

   
  
 _And I'll be so alone without you  
_ _Maybe you'll be lonesome, too_

 

“Hey, relax, it’s ok…you’ll get that operation someday, they’ll fix up your heart and then you’ll be number 1 in no time,” I told her, faking it a bit, but it didn’t matter. She laughed weakly, sniffing and rubbed her eyes. 

“Bullshit. You’re a bad liar,” she told me. 

“Sorry,” I grinned. 

“Nah, it’s ok…I can settle for the slow life, as long as I’ve got my music and my mind, I’ll be ok…but you gotta try and get out of this, you really oughta,” she nodded. I shrugged. Five minutes.

“Right now, all I gotta do is go to bed or I’m gonna pass out here and not wake up for another 10 or 12 hours,” I grinned. She nodded. 

“Goodnight…and thanks,” she said, turning to me. I smiled at her. 

“It’s ok, just lookin’ out for my new friend. You comin’?” I asked, pointing towards the stairs. She glanced at the stairs, then faced the sunset again. It was almost night now. 

“No…I’m gonna stay a bit longer, think for a bit more. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, nodding. I leaned towards her, whispering in her ear. 

“I’ll find you,”

Then I kissed her cheek and went straight back to my room. 

 

_Fly the ocean in a silver plane  
_ _See the jungle when it's wet with rain  
_ _Just remember 'til you're home again  
_ _You belong to me_


	9. Smoothie King

Woke up again at 11, and this time woke up to find someone knocking on the door instead of just bursting it. 6655321 was scratching the hell out of the door, whining. I guessed it was Emily. 

“Come in!” I yelled, checking I was vaguely decent, as in wearing sweatpants. The door opened and Emily poked her head round. She grinned sheepishly, leaning down to scoop 6655321 up in her arms. Today it was stripy tights, short black denim skirt, another sleeveless top and a black velvet jacket. Very pretty. And all set off by a very heavy and thick set spiky necklace. 

“Hey Frank,” she said, coming in and sitting down on my computer stool. I swung out of bed and grabbed my towel, heading for the bathroom. 

“Morning Em. Can I call you Em?” I asked. She nodded, absentmindedly. 

“Hope you don’t mind me comin’ over so early, it’s suffocatingly boring in my room,” she sighed. 

“It’s ok, you get used to it once you spread out your stuff. Still packed up?” I asked, going into the bathroom and closing the door, raising my voice so we could still talk. So amusing how social boundaries didn’t seem to matter as much. 

“Yeah, too depressing to unpack my life. It was shitty enough packing it up in the first place,” she sighed. 

“Do they lock your room at night?” I asked, pissing into the toilet. 

“Yeah, between 9 pm and 8 am, in case I try and run away during night shift…and they’ve got me going to the therapy guy three times a week. And I got my first medical check tomorrow,” she said, and I could tell she was scared. 

“Relax, it’s over fast and you will get used to it. It sucks, but I’ll be there for you. As for therapy, they stop making you go after a while, it’s voluntary after a certain point,” I told her. I was lucky, they didn’t see me anymore because my case was simple enough to outline and define, and I was honest about my feelings. 

 

_She don't even know exactly where she wants to go  
_ _Is that a double negative? Oh never mind, let's go  
_ _To the next line of the story  
_ _I met her at the smoothie king she said Seattle's best_ _  
_ _She may be right think I remember coffee on her breathe  
_ _She smoked cigarettes, I chewed bubble gum_

 

“Are you having a shower?” she asked a few minutes later, choosing to ignore my sensible advice. 

“Yeah,” I replied, turning the water on. 

“I’ll be in the courtyard, ok? Don’t wear yourself out!” she giggled and I heard the door close before I could reply. Cheeky bitch. Oh well, she was right, I better not wear myself out. I wanted to take her to meet my friends and to see the promenade. I stepped under the flow of water and felt the cool liquid run over me, once again reaching for an old friend. 

Pumping myself and leaning one hand against the wall for support, I felt heart rate increase and my breath shorten. I don’t care if Emily knows what I’m doing, this is my favourite way to feel. But as I squeezed and drove myself to pump faster, I found myself thinking about her. Oh God, I was masturbating to her. 

_That’s_ not awkward…

I came quickly, riding the chill that spread through my body and shaking my head to get rid of Emily’s image. I felt bad doing that to her without her permission, thinking about her as I came. I guess I liked her, but having any kind of feelings like that wasn’t very useful in a place like this. What was the point of being together in this rattrap?

Well, let’s see…there’s the friendship, closer than me and Gee. There’s the sex – always an important one. There’s the idea of having someone normal and real. With a crazy girl. Could be worse. She could be a chav. 

I dressed quickly and slipped out to find her. She was sitting on the lip of the fountain, playing with 6655321 as he jumped in and out of the water, covering her with water and making her squeal and jump away from him, running in circles as he chased her, barking. She pretended to trip and he jumped on her, covering her in doggy hair and water. 

“Ewww!” she squealed, pushing him off and rolling around, wrestling with the pup. I hung back in the shadows, water dripping from my hair into my t-shirt and my groin still pounding from blood. I watched as she ran around the courtyard with 6655321 at her heels. Her hair bounced brightly in the sunlight, and her body seemed so much more real and solid than it did before. She didn’t seem so fragile, so insane when she was dancing around with my dog. She seemed happy, her face lit up in a wide smile. I knew that as soon as I approached her, she’d withdraw back into herself, become normal and laced back up in wire and ribbon. A china doll wrapped up in a madhouse.

 

_I know I shouldn't take it but I think I kind of like it  
_ _When she tells me that I'm dumb  
_ _And this may sound pathetic but I think that we can make it  
_ _We'll go on and on and on and on_

 

“Em!” I called, unable to stay in the shadows for too long. She was drawing me towards her like a moth to a flame. She turned and waved, standing still as 6655321 danced around her still, barking, before running towards me with his tongue hanging out. 

I walked over to her and stopped in front of her. 

“Ready to go?” I asked her. She nodded. 

“Good shower?” she asked. I nodded. 

“The best,”  
We set off in silence, 6655321 barking madly. Emily was the most fun he’d had in ages, and the same for me too. She was different. Crazy, yes, fun, yes, cute, yep. We walked in silence, both comfortable. But I had my questions now. 

“Emily…you are allowed out, right?” I checked. She shrugged, glancing over at me. 

“Kinda. I’m allowed out if I take all the medication, if I’ve been good and if I don’t try and run away,” she shrugged, ducking her head. 

“You ok with all that?” I asked her softly. She shook her head. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ok with swallowing pills and checking in with freaks every morning and evening, but I’ll deal,” she said, sighing. I slung my arm over her shoulders, trying to cheer her up, something I rarely did myself. 

“We’ll be ok,” I told her, not believing it myself. She raised her eyebrow at me. 

“Bullshit, we won’t be til we get out of there,” she whispered as we left the Institution behind us and found our way to the main road. 

“And one day we will. I promise,” I told her, leading her away. 

   
 _Love songs suck and fairy tales aren't true  
_ _And happy ending Hollywood is not for me and you_

   
 _So add it up and break it down  
_ _It's not that hard to figure out  
_ _You're crazy and I'm crazy about you_

 

“Hey guys, this is Emily, she’s the new girl,” I said, introducing her to the guys one by one. 

“This is Mikey, you’ll like him, he hasn’t got enough personality to be an arsehole yet,” I told her. Mikey gave me a look as he shook Em’s hand. 

“I don’t know whether to be angry or to say thanks,” he muttered. 

“Just say thank you, being pissed won’t get you anywhere,” shrugged Em, smiling shyly at him. 

“This is Bob, he’s a general nice guy,”

“Hey Em, nice to meet you,” grinned Bob, walking over to shake her hand and then to scoop up 6655321. 

“He’s also got an unhealthy obsession with the mutt, just like you,” I grinned and she chuckled, turning to Ray. 

“Hey, nice fro,” she told him, smiling. He stood up and took her hand. 

“Thanks, I’m loving the blue. I’m Ray,” he returned the compliment. 

“And this is…hey, where’s Gee?” I asked, looking around for my best friend who I’d left for last. Ray shrugged. 

“No idea, he was here a bit earlier, then he went back to get some CDs and I guess he hasn’t been back since…” he said. 

“I’m guessing something distracted him,” said Mikey, sitting down on the counter and offering Emily a stool. 

“Or someone,” grinned Bob, sitting on the floor with 6655321 licking his fingers. I grinned and went behind the counter into the back of the store, looking for Gerard. Emily stayed with the guys, making small talk. 

“Gee? If you’re back here with Sophia, quit fucking!” I called, weaving in between shelves of boxes of old stock, of piles of bills and letters, boxes of fresh merch. I found Gerard standing near the back of the stock cupboard, a box dumped next to him, still circulating dust.

“Dude, you ok?” I asked, ducking into the darkness. He was only visible by his pale hands and the sheen of his hair. Everything else was pitch black. Back here, hardly anything got moved, leaving thick skins of dust everywhere. It was kinda gross, so why was Ger back here? I looked over his shoulder, touching his arm. He was staring – half in there – at the space on the shelf where the box had come from, the dust carved away to leave a big black space. Lying in it were several old razorblades, some still marked with dark brown smudges of blood. There were a couple of the floor too, where they must have been dragged off by the box and tinkled onto the floor, starling my friend. 

   
  
 _Everyone around me says she brings a brother down  
_ _And mommy thinks she's great but then again she's not around  
_ _To see her throw a fit, borderline conniption  
_ _And all this only matters if we listen anyway  
_ _And she's all I can think about so I must not be gay  
_ _I'm her lunatic and she's my psychopath_

 

“Ger?” I asked again, fighting the temptation to look at his arms. I trusted him more than that. But still, seeing the razors, the old blood…it brought back up paranoia.  

“I forgot…I forgot I’d hidden them there,” he told me, still staring at them. His fingers twitched towards them, but he didn’t move, I swear he didn’t even blink. 

“How long have they been there?” I asked. He shook his head. 

“I don’t remember. Months…months and months,” he told me. “Look at them. They used to be such a comfort,” he scoffed, laughing at them. It was like they were old best friends, reminders of what he used to depend upon. And now they were pathetic, spineless creatures and he saw that instead of being blind to it. I was proud of him. 

“What are they now?” I asked. He giggled to himself, bending down and picking the box up. 

“Venom,” he whispered, so full of hate and distaste, I barely caught the word drowned in the hiss. He pushed me back out of the closet and handed me the box, going back to gather them up. Seeing them in his hands, they weren’t as comfortable as I’d pictured they would be in his grasp, they were just as alien and horrific as they were meant to be. He gestured with his head, heading back to the front of the shop. I went to follow; but a glint of tarnished steel caught my eye and I saw one last razor in the dirt. I leaned the box on my hip, bent down and scooped it up. I couldn’t carry it and the box, so I slipped it in my pocket, to get rid of later.

When I caught up to Gerard, he was tossed the razors in the rubbish bin, the one so tall and deep you hardly ever got back what you threw in. I went to my back pocket, but again got distracted. 

“Gerard! Frank! Come and check out what Em’s doing!” yelled Mikey, running back and almost hitting me. I almost dropped the box, swearing. Gerard jumped and caught it, grinning. 

“Gotcha! What’s she doing?” he asked, hoisting the box off me and pushing me back out into the shop, Mikey just behind me. Mikey didn’t answer, just pointed. Em was in the middle of the shop, balancing almost perfectly on one hand, her legs pointed up in the air. Her scuffed boots sat next to her and her braceletted arm was stretched out the side, swaying gently to help her help her balance. Ray and Bob were trying to upset her balance by handing her books to hold, or resting them on her bare soles. 

 

_I know I shouldn't take it but I think I kind of like it  
_ _When she tells me that I'm dumb  
_ _And this may sound pathetic but I think that we can make it  
_ _We'll go on and on and on and on_

 

“That’s Emily?” Gerard asked me as she swore loudly, Bob’s heavy volume causing her to waver dangerously. I nodded, looking at the mess of blue hair that obstructed her face. 

“That’s her,” I said, and then winced as Emily slowly leaned to the side and then abruptly crashed to the floor, swearing. “You ok?” I called. She rolled onto her back, flipped her legs under her and hoisted herself up, rubbing her elbow and dragging her hair back. 

“As always,” she shrugged, looking at me, her gaze then sliding to Gerard. “Hi,” 

“Hi,” he smiled, offering her a hand, which she took. “Gerard,” 

“Emily,” she inclined her head, smiling warmly at him. Wow, she was fitting in well. Those pills must be more effective than I gave them credit for, she was almost normal. 

“You two will have a lot to talk about. Gerard’s obsessed with death and creepy cartoons, Emily’s actually died and is obsessed with the idea of eternity. You’ll get along like a house on fire,” I said cheerfully, then ducked past them both to stop Bob put 6655321 in one of the vinyl boxes.  

“You died?” I heard Gerard ask as he went to go stack CDs, Emily following him so they could talk. 

“Hey, Bob, Em and I don’t have that long, couple of hours at most, I’m thinking we should take her down to the beach,” I said, rescuing my mutt and raising my voice so Ray and Mikes could hear me too. 

“Sounds good. Corny, but good,” laughed Mikey. I looked to the other two, raising my eyebrows hopefully. 

“Love to, but not for too long. Mom wants me home to help around the house,” sighed Ray, looking gloomily. I sighed critically. 

“That’s shit. Bob?”

Bob shrugged. 

“Alright, I’m in,” he decided. “As long as I get to walk the dog,” he grinned. I rolled my eyes, and looked over at Gerard and Em, who were chuckling at something he’d just said, their pales faces carved into gentle smiles. I felt jealousy then, that he’d made her smile. 

  _Love songs suck and fairy tales aren't true  
_ _And happy ending Hollywood is not for me and you_

   
 _So add it up and break it down  
_ _It's not that hard to figure out  
_ _You're crazy and I'm crazy about you_

 

“Hey, Em! We’re taking you out! Ger, early lunch break,” I decided. Em looked over to me, and smiled. 

“Cool,” she said, looking back at Gerard. He shrugged and dumped the box down on the floor, running a hand through his hair. 

“I’m game,” 

We left the shop, Gerard grabbing his jacket and flipping the sign to ‘Back in 10 minutes’. 

“Are you actually coming back in ten minutes?” asked Mikey, smirking at his brother. Gerard snorted. 

“Fuck no,” 

We headed towards the beach, Bob and Emily taking turns to take 6655321’s leash. I fell in step with Gerard, hands deep in my pockets. 

“So…whatcha think?” I asked, smiling. “She something or what?”

Gerard smiled softly and nodded, watching her play fight with Bob for the leash, and 6655321 run in circles around them, almost tripping them up. 

“She’s…she’s definitely something,” he said gently, watching them with an odd look in his eye. 

“What? You don’t like her?” I asked, confused. They seemed to be getting on so well. 

“No, I like her, she’s great. She’s just…I dunno, she’s just really familiar, like I’ve met her before,” he said. Then he shrugged. “Did you get the feeling she’s waiting to snap?” he asked me. I shrugged, staring at the pavement. 

“Yeah, I guess, but that’s kinda to be expected…” I said, a little uncomfortable with the idea. I liked her as normal as she could be. 

“I guess. She’s nice though, I like her. She’s a flavour of insanity that tastes good,” he said, poetry suddenly springing from nowhere. I grinned despite myself. 

“Very cool, you like her!” I said mostly to myself, glad that my friends liked her. It just seemed to make things a lot easier. We arrived at the beachside, and Em took 6655321 to wake down in the waves, taking her boots off and pulling her tights off as well so her toes could feel the wet sand. Me and the guys hung back, walking over the stony path up on the promenade, watching her bright blue head walk down the beach with the dog, lost in her own thoughts. 

 

_And we are the lucky ones; we'll get matching tee shirts airbrushed at the mall  
_ _Hang out at the pretzel stand and make fun of people and laugh if someone falls  
_ _Watch everyone else hold hands and try so hard and maybe we'll start to see  
_ _That you and me we're not so crazy_

 

“Is she gonna be ok by herself down there?” asked Mikey. I nodded. 

“Yeah, she’ll be ok, she likes taking time to think and stuff, she loves the view,” I smiled. We’d seen it all before, we’d been here for so long that the beach and the waves weren’t as amazing as they used to be. Emily seemed to love them though, kicking up the sand, tracing the waves with her toe, chasing 6655321 through the foam. 

“She’s is severely fuckable,” said Bob, grinning. I rolled my eyes. 

“You’re so helpful dude, that’s just crude,” I hmphed, shaking my head as him. Bob ducked behind Ray, grinning at me. 

“Just sayin’, dude!”

“It is a fair point, Frank, you gotta admit. She’s a total hottie,” agreed Ray, looking over at the girl running in circles on the sandy beach with the dog on her heels, once again lost in her happiness. 

“And she’s totally insane,” I pointed out, leaning my elbows on the bar overlooking the beach, the guys falling into place to mirror me. 

“Just like you!” pointed out Mikey, grinning. 

“What a pair,” said Gerard, smiling faintly as he watched Em. 

We didn’t really say much after that, just watched Emily enjoy herself, dancing around the mutt, wrestling with him over sticks and then collapsing in the sand, the pup panting next to her. 

“There are worse things than being a boyfriend to a crazy girl,” said Ray. 

“Trust me, I would know,” grinned Gerard. I looked at him and smiled warmly. 

“Yeah…I guess you’re right…now I just have to sum up the courage to ask her out…”

“This one will run and run,” smirked Gerard. 

 

_Love songs suck and fairy tales aren't true  
_ _And happy ending Hollywood is not for me and you_

   
  
 _So add it up and break it down  
_ _It's not that hard to figure out  
_ _You're crazy and I'm crazy about you_

 


	10. Silver And Cold

Eventually Em and I had to back to the Institute, holding our shoes in our hands and walking barefoot, 6655321 running around us in his happy puppy way. Emily was preoccupied with a huge triple scoop whippy icecream covered in strawberry sauce and sprinkles, her little pink tongue going lick, lick, lick and really distracting me. Damn her cute little pink tongue and that incredibly suggestive icecream all around her lips! 

“Frank, stop staring at me, it’s annoying,” she said suddenly, as I realised I’d been watching her for a while, my own tongue circling my lower lip. I shook myself free and grinned sheepishly, looking ahead of me. I found the icecream thrust in front of me, offered. I grinned and licked it quickly, stealing as much of it as I could comfortably fit in my mouth. 

“Frank!” she squealed, pulling it away and rescuing it from me as I grinned stupidly at her, ice cream dribbling down my chin. She laughed at me and pulled on my wrist to stop me. 

“Hold on, you’re wasting good icecream!” she told me, her face creased up into a wide grin. She ran her fingers all around my mouth, catching the drops and feeding them to me. I couldn’t help, both my hands tied up, one with my shoes and the other with 6655321. Instead I just grinned foolishly as I licked the icecream off her fingers, biting her fingertip gently. 

“Ouchie!” she complained, and I grinned. 

“Sorry, too tempting,”

 

_I came here by day_

_But I left here in darkness_

_And found you, found you on the way_

_Now...it is silver and silent_

_It is silver and cold_

_You in sombre resplendence, I hold._

 

 

She rolled her eyes at me and began to walk again, swinging her shoes backwards and forwards, dancing from foot to foot, bouncing up and down in girlish happiness. 

“Come on, Frankie, home time! You’ve only got half an hour before you zonk out!” she called as I followed. 

The day had gone by way too fast for us. Ray decided to disobey his mom and stay after Emily rejoined us on the pier, and that left us to run around and remember the fun the pier used to be when we were young. Emily loved it, forcing us to go on every single ride they had – from the rollercoaster (4 times) to those vomit inducing teacups (7 times – she loved those the most). I went on every ride with her, but the guys pick and chose them. She kept having to take breaks, letting her heart return to a normal pace before running off again – and she spent that time eating. She tried everything, the hotdogs, the cotton candy, the icecream, begging money off us when she didn’t have enough to buy any more popcorn. I even bought her one of those corny beach side friendship bracelets with the interweaving rainbow threads and beads and shells, as well as a few silver bells that jingled everytime she threw her arms around our necks or pointed excitedly at yet another ride and begged and begged and begged. 

I knew that in her pocket she had one of those photo booth series of photographs, four different photos of all of us crammed in, pulling faces and screaming because it hurt to be smooshed in. The first one had us all smartly arranged, all six of us in rows of threes, our faces slack and zombie like. Emily even had her tongue hanging out her mouth. The next one had Mikey falling over, and me and Em pretending to sleep on Ray’s fro as Bob and Gerard pulled suave faces at each other. The last one were the same really, but the very last one had me and Em, pushed right into the glass and grinning, Emily turned towards me and kissing my cheek movie star style, as Gerard and Mikey peered over our heads and Bob stuck his tongue out just beneath us. Ray was only visible by his afro.  

And the funny thing was, the entire day, I didn’t worry about how much energy I had. I didn’t even feel tired. The only reason we were even going back was because Gerard had to go back to work and Bob and Mikey decided to go play video games. It was when it was just me and Em sitting on the bench right at the end of the pier, looking out at the sun which was beginning to dip towards the horizon, that she looked at her watch, whistled and began to pull me back towards the Institute. 

 

_Your sins into me_

_Oh my beautiful one_

_Your sins into me_

_As your rapturous voice escapes I will tremble a prayer,_

_and I'll beg for forgiveness._

_Your sins into me_

_Your sins into me_

_Oh my beautiful one_

 

“Oi! Cheeky bitch! Come back here!” I called, hopping after her. She grinned over her shoulder.

“Fuck off, Iero, and catch up on your own time!” she called, skipping along faster. I chuckled and began to jog to keep up with her. 

“Oh, it’s on girl! Think you can out run me?” I called, breaking into a run to overtake her. I ended up racing her all the way up to the lobby of the Institute, both of us slamming into the glass doors, yelling triumph at the top of our voices. 

We slipped inside and I chased Emily all the way to her room, telling me over and over that if I caught her I’d tickle her until she squealed, which only made her dance faster along the carpeted hallways, 6655321 dodging around her heels. 

She burst into her room, laughing and swearing as I almost hit the door too, her hands trying to shut it in my face. There was a short wrestling match between us as we both tried to force the door, pulling faces and swearing at each other until she gave and I crashed into the room, doing a spectacular roll and head butting her bed. 

“Ow!” I moaned, looking up at where she stood, laughing at me helplessly and pointing at me, her eyes shut, mouth opened wide and hand over her stomach as she laughed loudly and hard, doubled up. 

“You idiot!” she laughed, before jumping over me onto her bed and bouncing on it, laughing and pointing and chanting ‘Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!”

I shut her up by tackling her onto the bed and pinning her wrists above her head. 

“Shut up, basket case!” I laughed, bending down and rubbing the tip of my nose against hers. She grinned and stared at me, daring me to do something. It was then, just then, that a dizzying wave of fatigue swept through me and my elbows gave way so I crashed on top of her, my eyes dropping and yawning fit to burst. She laughed and pushed me off, wriggling out from underneath me and turning me on to my back. 

“God, you are hopeless Frank! Go to sleep why don’t you! On _my_ bed!” she chuckled, moving around the bed and kicking boxes out of the way. I yawned again, trying to apologise as blackness began to seep into the corners of my eyes. I could just see her popping another pill from her beating heart.

 

_Light like the flutter of wings_

_Feel your hollow voice rushing_

_Into me...as your longing to sing_

_So I...I will paint you in sliver_

_I will wrap you in cold_

_I will lift up your voice as, I sink._

 

“Sor-Sor-Yaaaarrr,” I yawned again, my entire jaw stretching out as far as it could, my chin rolled up into those little rolls of fat which is not a flattering look. I forced myself to keep my eyes open, my muscles slipping away already into sleep. Emily stood above me, shaking her head as she looked down at me. Then she looked up at her bare sterilized walls and fished around for the photos in her jacket pocket. 

“Hey, Frank, check it out,” she said, holding them up on the wall by the headrest of her bed and using a thumbtack to stick it in place. 

“I’m not only unpacking my old life,” she said smiling, kneeling next to me and leaning over to brush my fringe out of my eyes, before looking back at the snapshot memories on the wall – the only decoration. 

“I’m starting a whole new one,”

Zzz…

 

_Your sins into me_

_Oh my beautiful one now_

_Your sins into me_

 

Usually when I fall asleep, I don’t wake up til half way through the next morning, but this time it was dark when I woke up. Dark and cool, like one of the ceiling high windows were open. I blinked a few times, then yawned. Why had I woken up? I was still in Emily’s room, right? Where was she? I sat lazily, still blinking my eyes back into focus and looking for her in the darkness. I heard her before I saw her. 

She was sitting at the foot of the bed, only the top of her head visible over the footrest. She was breathing incredibly heavily, panting. Her head moved back and forward with the deep inhales and exhales of breath. 

“Emily?” I asked, crawling over to her on hands and knees and looking down at her. She was curled into the tightest ball she could fit into, knees drawn up to under her chin despite her amazing chest, and arms locked firmly around them, her entire body rocking back and forward as she breathed. 

“Em? You ok?” I asked again, reaching down to touch her shoulder. She gave the tiniest jump but didn’t respond, her jaw slacked open as she breathed. A tiny whimper escaped from her. I slid off the bed and crawled around to see her face. In the dim light, I could see her eyes were open wide and unblinking, staring straight ahead like something was terrifying the speech right out of her. 

I knew this, I’d seen it before, she was having a delusional attack. She could see or hear things I couldn’t and it was scaring the fuck out of her. 

I knew the worst thing to do in this situation was to shake her, or to try and knock her out of it. Even touching her wasn’t a good idea, it just added sensations to whatever was going on in her head, making it more real and more horrific. 

The best thing to do was tell a nurse, get her some medication or something, but I really didn’t want to. Not only would I have to explain why I was there, but Emily wouldn’t forgive me if she came around strapped down and hooked up. 

Instead I just sat next to her, listening to her breath, just being there for her. That way is she got violent, I could hold her down, calm her down as best I could. 

A little time went by before Emily began to breathe more normally, her body twitching. Either from cold or from fear, but I didn’t have time to figure it out as she began to force out words. 

 

_As your rapturous voice escapes I will tremble a prayer,_

_And I'll beg for forgiveness._

_Your sins into me_

_Your sins into me_

_Oh my beautiful one_

 

“I…I can see it,” she whispered, I think to me. I bit my lip, I had no idea if talking to someone having a paranoid attack was a good idea or not. Oh well, she seemed to be…well not there, but near enough. 

“What? What is it?” I asked, watching her carefully. She was shaking, but not bad enough to have a seizure or anything. Oh shit buckets, I hate basket cases. Even if they did have pretty faces. 

“Oh my God, I can see it,” she whispered, sounding so tiny and insignificant she suddenly seemed so much younger. 

“What can you see?” I asked her again. Her response came slowly. 

“My…my heart,” she said in a low voice, moving one of her hands to cover her chest. I glanced down, noticing her fingers resting over her ribcage were thudding in and out with her heart. Oh shit, she was moving towards an attack of the really bad kind. 

“It hurts…it hurts so much…”

Oh shitty shit shit! Palpitations! McShit burger with shitty fries on the side and a huge dollop of shitty shit-shit! 

“Just keep breathing, try and calm down,” I said eventually. She wouldn’t, but it was worth a shot. I had to call a nurse. I tried to get up, and her hand flashed out and grabbed my wrist with such a vice like grip I crashed back down and winced, her fingers twisting my wrist at a painful angle. 

“Don’t go!” she said loudly, shaking her head erratically, her breathing becoming faster and her eyes wider. Oh bollocks. 

“It’s ripping! It’s bleeding! It’s gonna die! I’m broken, broken, broken…” she moaned, her whole body rocking uncontrollably. I bit down on my lip, her nails digging into the soft front of my wrists, and it fucking hurt!

“Broken china doll, scattered on the floor, crumpled rainbow mess, fragile play thing, backbone is just a string, broken, breaking, dead, dead, dead…” she gasped, before completely freaking out. As in screaming, juddering, clawing at her chest like she wanted to tear her heart out, all the while panting out lyrical slogans of fear in a voice so scared it made my blood run cold. 

 

_I fall asleep for you_

_I only ask you turn away_

_Cold in life's throws_

_I fall asleep for you_

_Cold in life's throw_

 

“Rip out offending organ, sew me back up, smile red slashed smiles, take it back, take it back, sew me back up, fix me, new backbone, new string, new face, china doll freshly painted, fix the offence, FIX ME!” 

Her grip slackened on my wrist as she slid down to the floor, shaking and curled up, wailing at her heart painfully thudding inside her chest, the sensitive tissue scraping the muscular ribs surrounding it, swelling until it pressed on her lungs, making it uncomfortable to breathe and causing her to panic further.  

“It hurts! Make it stop! Fix me! I’m breaking, breaking, breaking, broken on the floor, bleeding on the floor, I’m dead, dead, dead!”

Each gasp was like a gunshot in the silence on her room. I clambered up, afraid to leave her but I knew that if I didn’t get help she’d suffer an injury of some kind. I went straight to the panel by her headrest, peering at it in the gloom, looking for the emergency button. 

“I’m gonna die!”

Guessing, I stabbed the panel with my finger, and there was a short burst of alarm bells ringing in the main office, and I sighed in relief. They’d come, they’d be here soon. I crossed the room swiftly, opening her door and propping it open with one of her boxes, gentle orange lights piercing the room and lighting up where Emily lay, writhing in pain.

“It’s ok Em, I’m helping you,” I said over her wails, hoping to God she could hear me. She was in the middle of an episode, even if she did hear me, she probably wouldn’t process it. 

 

_I only ask you turn_

_As you seep_

_Into me_

_Oh my beautiful one now_

 

It was a tense few minutes of Em suffering and me waiting for the bloody dudes to arrive, but when they did, they were efficient. Two of them picked Emily up like she weighed nothing and took her outside and placed her on a gurney, two nurses grabbing her wrists and ankles and tying her down as she tried to pull loose, staring blindly at them and yelling, trying to run away. 

I stood in her doorway, biting my lip and watching her. It was like someone had stolen away my new friend, taken her out of her shell and left this raving, terrified creature. I felt my eyes prickle as they pushed a needle into her arm, which only made her panic more, thrashing out wildly. She was in serious danger of overstraining herself – they shouldn’t have shown her the needle, she was terrified of it. 

The effect of the liquid was immediate, in seconds she was unconscious and lay on the gurney as if she was dead. I watched them wheel her off quickly.

“Oh my God…I’m so sorry Emily,”

 

_Your sins into me_

_Oh my beautiful one_

_Your sins into me_

_As your rapturous voice escapes I will tremble a prayer,_

_and I'll beg for forgiveness._

_Your sins into me_

_Your sins into me_

_Oh my beautiful one_


	11. Wind Up Toy

I don’t know where they’d taken Emily, or what they’d do to her there, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t be happy when she came around. I always wondered if there was a better way to deal with the ones who had episodes like Emily – they just sedated them or knocked them out until they came back a bit more sane and a lot less trusting of this place. Emily already hated it, she wasn’t settled to it and she was at a fragile stage of acceptance of her own body! They might as well have left her to pass out on her own, the damage would’ve been less for her. 

 

_Voices come from down the hall_

_In my room all painted white_

_I have my bat and rubber ball_

_I like to sleep with them at night_

 

She’d wake in strapped down with tubes feeding in and out of her arms and she’d panic. If she made too much of a fuss, they’d just knock her out again. It was a vicious cycle. I was so worried about her I didn’t pay attention to what happened to me. I was being led, almost forcefully, down a corridor, towards the offices. 

I couldn’t stop worrying though, my affection for Emily had increased so much in such a short amount of time I felt the need to be by her side. I wanted to know she was alright, I needed to. I’ve never really attracted to a girl before, or more accurately, a girl’s personality. I felt like I missed her quirkiness, her smile. I’d lusted over boobs and the like before, but Emily was different. She was like a best friend whom I just wanted to be with, to protect in my own way. 

 

_But now I'm all smiles_

_The good little shots must be winning_

_Yes, they crank my dial_

_My motor is stalled but my wheels are still spinning_

 

I didn’t realise I was in trouble until they sat me down in front of the head of the Institute. Grave white eyebrows furrowed over what should have been sparkling clear blue eyes, but now they were stern and harsh – and aimed at me. The man sitting opposite me was tall and broadly shouldered, the kind of build that once played rugby and other male sports, but with a face that had once been handsome and had only become more impressive with age. Lines and wrinkles covered it, adding personality and sophistication. His white hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his goatee was neatly trimmed. 

The Director of the Institute, the sublime Quince. Both captivating, otherworldly and ferocious. I’d only ever met him once before, when I’d first come to the place I rated second only to Hell. 

And now I waited in silence, wondering how they were going to punish me for helping Emily. He waved to the guards behind me, signalling for them to leave us alone. As the door clicked shut, I suddenly realised I was in big shit. 

“Ok, Frank, start talking,” said Quince, sitting back in his chair and watching me through lowered lids, hands plaited together as he rested his elbows either side of the chair. I gulped. 

 

_Daddy won't discuss me_

_What a state I must be_

_Mommy couldn't stand living with a wind-up toy_

 

“What about sir?” I asked nervously. There was no emotion on his face, apart from a slight irritation from being disturbed. The clock next to him told me it wasn’t even 11 yet. 

“About Emily. What happened?” 

I wondered how best to phrase this. 

“We had been hanging out all day and we went to her room, and I fell asleep. When I woke up she was having an episode, but I only called for help when she started complaining about palpitations,” I shrugged finally. It seemed perfectly justifiable. Quince’s expression didn’t change in the slightest, it was like it was made out of rock. 

“She and you are friends now, I take it?” he said carefully. I nodded. 

“She’s cool, and she needs a friend in this place. It’s…” I faltered, seeing Quince’s eyes narrow a bit, but I was determined to be honest. “It’s not like a home should be,”

“You think she’s unhappy?”

 

_Daddy won't discuss me_

_What a state I must be_

_Mommy couldn't stand living with a wind-up toy_

 

“Yeah, obviously!” I snorted. Then I stopped. “You don’t think she wanted to have this attack do you?” I asked, not believing it. Quince didn’t change his expression, merely flicked his fingers dismissively. 

“I don’t believe she did want it, but she may have brought it on,” he said softly. My eyebrows shot up. 

“She’s in charge of her own mind, true, but everyone here has a trigger, it wasn’t her fault she had an episode, you can’t blame her, that’ll only alienate her further,” I said as calmly and as diplomatically as I could. If I pissed Quince off, I’d probably be in shit loads of trouble.

“Yes…a trigger,” said Quince, refocusing on my face. There was a short silence and then I got what he was thinking. 

 

_All my friends live on the floor_

_Tiny legs and tiny eyes_

_They're free to crawl under the door_

_And, and someday soon so will I_

 

“Hey! I didn’t do anything! When I woke up, she was like that! I didn’t try and hurt her or anything!” I defended myself. Quince shrugged. 

“Possibly. But something set her off, there always is a trigger,” he said cluelessly. He had no idea how teenager’s minds worked, or anyone’s, by the sound of it. Triggers aren’t necessary physical or circumstantial. A lot of the time, a simple train of thought can lead the mind to think to hard about something, or begin to worry itself. In my case, when I thought about how wasteful my day was as I slept or about my life in general, my manic-depressive moods would swing a lot faster. For Emily, the emotional trauma was already fresh enough – her parents had just abandoned her here, somewhere she definitely didn’t want to be – and she had all that shit about her heart and then further crap about paranoid delusions. No wonder if she dwelt on it she’d freak out!

As I told this to Quince, his expression did soften, he did seem to get my point. Eventually he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, his head in his hands. 

“Poor girl,” he said gently. 

I breathed a sigh of relief, he seemed to be getting the problem now. When he looked up at me, he seemed conflicted. 

 

_But now I'm all smiles_

_These good little shots must be working_

_I'm so happy now_

_Look, my fingers don't shake and my head isn't jerking_

 

“Frank, this is a problem. Keeping Emily under sedation would keep her from having episodes and also keep her health at it’s best, but we were to do that her human rights would come into question. She’d have no freedom, no proper choice to free will. If she were sedated she wouldn’t even be herself and that is the issue. If she isn’t kept on careful medication, she runs the risk of killing herself…by simply living her life,” he explained in a soft, solemn voice. My chest tightened and I looked down quickly, biting my lip. Emily? Die? No way, not that spunky girl! She was so full of life and wit and personality! Ok, she may have been a bit crazy, a bit overwhelming, but she couldn’t just die…could she? 

 

_Daddy won't discuss me_

_What a pain I must be_

_Mommy couldn't stand having such a wound-up boy_

 

“But…she’s been fine for years! How is she in danger now?!” I demanded, my voice coming out desperate and broken, I was far more attached to her than I had thought. Quince stood up smoothly, gesturing me to follow. 

“I’ll show you,” 

He led me into the private examination room he had to the side of his office, where the more serious patients came for tests and evaluations. He turned the light board on, before going over to a filing cabinet and unlocking it with a huge bundle of keys. I watched silently as he rifled through the drawer and pulled on a new slim pink file with Emily’s name on it. He pulled out several X rays and slotted them in place. 

“This is Emily’s ribcage, as I’m sure you can see,” said Quince, poking to the familiar shape. “And this is her heart,”

 

_Doctors want to check me_

_Poke me and dissect me_

_What do they expect?_

_Feelings from a wound-up toy?_

_I don't think so_

_I'm just a wound-up toy_

_I'm just a wind-up toy_

 

 

He pointed to a strange shape in between the two slices of ribs. It was faintly shown, the lines a lot harder to see compared to the white bone structures around it.

“How did you get it to show up at all?” I asked, curious. Quince took it down and put up a larger image, the heart much larger. 

“When she was first taken to hospital after her heart failed the first time, she was injected with iron deposits which would line the chambers and muscles of the heart for a brief period of time, allowing the x ray to show up,” he explained in the same, slow, grave voice. I bit my lip. 

 

_I'm lost in a nightmare_

_Shiny white halls_

_Drawing rats on the wall_

 

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?” I asked. He shook his head. 

“It was a miniscule amount, and her body rejected it as soon as it passed through the gut,” explained Quince quickly, then pointed to the heart again. 

“You see this thicker line?” he asked. I nodded. “This is the blood vessel in the heart that takes blood from the atrium and uses the heart’s own intrinsic rhythm to pump it around the heart muscles, keeping the heart oxygenated. This is Emily’s heart,” he told me gravely, then went over to the filing cabinet again, and took a folder off the top, going through it until he found another X-ray. 

“This is a text perfect heart,” he explained, placing it next to Emily’s. I bit my lip, Emily’s heart looked roughly the same, except the vessel down the side was much thicker and separated into more like two lines than one thick one. And her entire heart seemed to be covered in more lines than the other one. 

“Simply, what happened to her when she got too excited was too much blood was forced into this vessel, which tore it and the blood leaked out of her heart along this line and her heart ran out of oxygen, causing anaerobic action. Thanks to her SAN and the intrinsic rhythm, it kept pumping and that kept her alive, but the lack of oxygen caused terrible damage to the muscles of both ventricles,” he explained, pointing to the darker lines netted over the two lower chambers. 

 

_Solitary confinement_

_Chained in a cell_

_Got my own private hell_

 

“As she healed, this vessel healed as well, but much weaker, and the damage had already been done,” he sighed, taking a final X ray from Emily’s file and slotting it in place. It was a close up on the dark lines over her heart, focussing on the darkest one apart from the blood vessel. It crossed over her left ventricle, like a knife wound. 

“This was a concurrent rip in her stronger left ventricle muscle. To compensate healing, the muscle has folded in and this has lessened to amount of blood she can pump around her body, as well as caused this ridge of collagen and smooth muscle to grow. When she grows too excited, this ridge is the one to touch the edge of her lungs and ribs, causing the palpitations she suffered from last night. At the same time, the vessel here continues to strain against the extra blood pushed through it, and this causes hundreds of tiny rips all over the heart. As you can imagine, this all hurts a lot,” he sighed finally. My jaw was hanging open, my chest tightening as I thought about Emily’s perfectly broken heart. It seemed unreal, completely unnatural. I wanted to believe this was someone else’s heart, not Emily’s. 

 

_Preacher crucifies me_

_Warden wants to fry me_

_I was never young_

_Never just a little boy_

 

As I stared at the black and white X ray I saw her bright blue hair bobbing in the sun, her wide and cheesy grin, her wicked eyes as she caught me. This was Emily’s insides, her internal scarring. It was horrific. 

“You said…you said less blood pumped around her body…what effect would that have on her?” I asked, biting my lip and fearing the answer. Quince sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes. 

“Less blood means the blood vessels all over the body would dilate to the most important parts of the body, the lungs and the brain. She’d lose motion, and energy until her heat rate got back to normal, and if it was really bad she’ lose consciousness. But if her body goes without oxygen for too long, it would cause severe muscle tissue damage,” he told me grimly. 

 

_Daddy won't discuss me_

_What a pain I must be_

_Mama couldn't stand having such a wound-up boy_

_I'm just a wind-up toy_

_I'm a wind-up toy_

_I'm just a wind-up toy, I'm just a wind-up toy_

 

“How bad?” I asked firmly. He looked unsure whether or not to answer me. 

“How bad?” I repeated. He sighed again. 

“If she was unconsciousness for too long, or her heart rate continued to be too high for too long, suffer irreversible brain damage and muscle damage…or even kill herself,”

The room swayed as my legs gave out and I swooned back, Quince reaching out instinctively to catch me. My eyes drooped, darkness beginning to overtake me. 

“Seems you’ve had too much, Frank, time to get you back to your own bed…you can see Emily in the morning, if she’s ready,” I heard his voice say from a long, long way away and then I slipped away. 

 

_I'm just a wind-up toy_

_I'm a wind-up toy_

_I'm just a wind-up toy, I'm just a wind-up toy_

 


	12. Melt With You

This time I woke up to 6655321 whimpering and my phone vibrating. I glanced at the clock quickly, it was 12, I’d been asleep for nearly 12 hours. I instantly worried about Emily, was she ok? I grabbed my phone and flipped the top. 

“Hello?” I asked breathlessly. I knew it wasn’t her, that would’ve been impossible, but that didn’t stop the irrational part of me hoping. 

“Hey Frank, tis the Gerard monster! You ok?” he asked. 

“Um, yeah, just woke up,” I said quickly, sitting up and blinking the sleep out of my eyes, rummaging for socks. 

“Figured! I’m calling to invite you and Emily to a party on Friday, should be entertaining,” sniggered Gerard, in one of his ridiculously good moods. My guess was he was lying around in bed with Sophia. I figured I was right when I heard a little giggle. “Yeah, I said entertaining,” he chuckled to someone else. 

“That’d be cool, I can’t really talk right now, Emily’s been internally sectioned, I gotta go see her,” I said breathlessly, trying to shove shoes onto my feet and scraping my hair back from my face. 

“Fuck, what happened?” he asked, his humour dying away. He sounded almost as worried as I was. 

“She had an episode, they knocked her out, took her away,” I said. Gerard tried to ask more questions, Sophia asking questions in the background, but I interrupted them both. 

“Look, Ger, I can’t talk right now, I’ll fill you in later,” I promised and hung up quickly, showing the phone in my pocket. 6655321 was running around me, barking and begging me to let him out with me. 

 

  _Moving forward using all my breath,_

_Being friends with you was never second best,_

_And I saw the world crashing all around your face,_

_Never really knowing it was always mesh and lace._

 

It took me very little time to leave my room and go straight up to the ward where they held the patients that needed to be strapped down at night. The ones that were just too insane to be on their own, in their own rooms. 

“Hey, hey Jill! Where’s Em?” I asked the familiar face coming out of the open ward. She looked up from the clipboard she was carrying, and seemed very shocked to see me up here. I’ve only ever been up here once, and I never wanted to repeat it. 

“Frank! What are you doing up here?” she asked. What the fuck? Was she just being retarded or something to piss me off?

“Emily. Where is she?” I asked carefully, gritting my teeth and wringing my hands. She didn’t seem to get how frustrated I was with her. 

“Frank, I don’t think I can let you see her yet, she’s still quite bad,” she told me, biting her lip. 

“Please, Jilly, I gotta see her, I gotta see that she’s ok, please?” I begged her. She still looked uncertain. “Jilly, please, please, please, just let me see her,” I pleaded, ready to get down on my knees and beg God himself. 

But finally she gave. 

“Alright, Frank, but if you get in trouble, nothing to do with me,” she said firmly, glancing around and leading me towards one of the private rooms. She was holding my elbow, and looking straight forward. I tried to speak, but she shushed me and then let go of my elbow directly outside a door, and continued walking. I stared away her, confused until I glanced through the rippled glass of the door. I couldn’t see much, but I recognised the mess of blue bobbles in the glass – Emily was in there. 

I took a deep breath and put my hand on the door, listening to my heart beginning to race. What was I doing? What would I say? Jesus, I wasn’t thinking this through!

“Frank, I can see your hair through the door, stop loitering,” 

 

_I'll stop the world and melt with you_

_You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time_

_And there's nothing you and I won't do_

_I'll stop the world and melt with you_

 

I jumped. Emily’s voice came through the door, scaring the shit out of me. I swore under my breath as I pushed the handle down and slipped inside. 

“Don’t look at me!” she cried as soon as I did and I instantly shut my eyes. 

“Why, are you naked or something?” I asked, suddenly worried. Emily chuckled. 

“No, but my hair’s a total mess…” she moaned. I laughed nervously and opened my eyes, and as soon as I saw her, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I closed over the room and swooped down to give her a hug. 

“You look fabulous,” I told her, hugging her as hard as I dared. She chuckled, gripping me back equally hard. 

“You’re such a liar, Iero,” she smirked, pushing me off her. I grinned. She was lying in one of those high beds with the metal sides. Her ankles were bound to the footrest, and her shoulders as well, meaning she could use her arms but not get out of the bed. There was an oxygen nozzle up her nose, and a drip tap still taped to her hand, even thought the drip wasn’t connected. I glimpsed an abandoned tray of hospital food on the sideboard, as well as a watery bunch of crappy plastic flowers (why must they feel the need to mock those with no family by keeping these in here day in day out, whether there was someone in here or not). 

Emily herself looked pretty good, her usually pale skin was flushed and her freckles stood out as she grinned. She looked darker thanks to the white sheets surrounding her, and the white of the walls. She had no makeup on, and the bags under her eyes didn’t make her look as fabulous as her makeup did. Her hair was a fuzzy mess, one I felt I should pet. 

“Yeah, but you love me none the less,” I smirked, finding a chair and pulling it right up to her bedside, sitting down and taking her hand. She squeezed it and smiled at me. 

“Whatever, freak. Ok, get me out of here, what’s the escape plan? Dynamite? Laundry truck? Tigers?” she asked me. I laughed and shook my head. 

“You’re such a kook…I just thought we’d earn their trust, then steal the keys, steal a tank,” I smiled. Emily closed her eyes and leaned back, sighing deeply. 

“God I wish it was that easy…” she said. “They tell me they’re gonna keep me here today, let me out tomorrow morning…and I can’t go out of the Institute for a few days, prove I’m stable enough,” she hmphed. I bit my lip, squeezing her fingers lightly. 

 

_Dream of better lives the kind which never hate_

_Trapped in a state of imaginary grace_

_I made a pilgrimage to save this human's race_

_Never comprehending a race that's long gone by_

 

“You’ll be ok, I promise…I’ll sneak in tonight and help you through it if you want,” I offered, hoping she’d say yes. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking up at the ceiling, then tilting her head to look at me. 

“That’d be nice, really nice…cept you’ll fall asleep straight away,” she laughed. I rolled my eyes and sat back, still holding her hand. 

“Screw you, at least I’ll be here…and you can wake me up if you need me,” 

“Thanks Frank…it means a lot,” she smiled, squeezing my fingers and gazing at me softly. I nodded the dull gleam in her eyes, the sluggish movements. 

“What did they put you on?”

She shrugged. 

“Something…with a complex name…it’s making me feel slow. I’m sorry for last night,” she said, shaking her head. 

“It’s fine, it wasn’t your fault,” I said softly, pulling my chair closer to her head. She sighed deeply. 

“I still feel bad…but that might be the drugs,” she sighed again. I reached up and stroked her forehead, my fingers tracing her messy blue bang behind her ear. 

“How’s your chest?” I asked. 

“Numb,” she responded. “Pumped so full of painkillers, I couldn’t feel it if you bit me,” she chuckled. I raised my eyebrow, and bent forward, raising her hand to my mouth and biting her finger gently. She didn’t even glance at me, even when I bit harder, gnawing on her finger sweetly. She opened her eyes and looked at me, now sucking on her finger. 

“You are so weird,” she laughed, but didn’t stop me. I let go of her finger and netted our fingers again. 

“So…what do you think set you off yesterday?” I asked tentatively. She gave another big sigh. 

“It’s a good thing I’m sedate or I might bite your nose off,” she chuckled. “I think it was because…I was sitting there, staring at all the boxes on the floor…and thinking about my parents being gone and my friends and this new life, and the injections and procedures and my heart and everything…and it just seemed all so horrible and I couldn’t bear it…I could feel my heart beating and it suddenly seemed so scary, like I was just so alone and I could die and no one would know or care…and then it was too late to stop myself freaking out,” she sighed deeply. 

 

_I'll stop the world and melt with you_

_You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time_

_And there's nothing you and I won't do_

_I'll stop the world and melt with you_

 

“Ah, how crappy,” I said, having no idea what to say. She smirked. 

“I feel so loved,” she said sarcastically. I grinned and hopped up to sit on the side of her bed, shoving my feet on my vacated chair and leaning over her, my nose close to hers. 

“I’m going give you a warning,” I said, as she opened she eyes and slowly focussed on me. 

“What?”

“There’s a party at Gerard’s house on Friday – you better be ok by then,” I winked. “And I’m going to asking you to come with me,”

She smiled slowly at me, her face lighting up. “As in a date?”

I nodded. 

“As in a date,”

She shrugged softly. 

“Ok…but I want flowers!”

I grinned. 

“Ok, flowers,” I winked, kissing her nose and bouncing off her bed. “But you gotta promise you one little thing,” I teased her, leaning back down and stroking her blue hair. 

“Whassat?”   

I leaned closer and closer, until I was so close to her I could feel the warmth of her skin glowing near mine. She made me feel warm inside, a kind of light at the end of the tunnel I didn’t see coming in my dreary future. She was something I never expected, her presence in my life completely unexpected but so fragile and beautiful and gorgeous and exciting it was like watching the first sunrise or the first butterfly unravel from it’s cocoon. 

That was what it was like standing over Emily and looking into her eyes. 

“During the party, I’m gonna take you onto the dance floor…and I’m gonna lean in slowly…and I’m gonna wait for you,” I said gently, her eyes gazing back up at me. 

“I want you to promise me that you’ll kiss me when I kiss you,”

There was a brief silence, Emily’s eyes lighting up gently, her top teeth biting down on her lip. 

“Ok…I promise,”

 

_The future's open wide_

_I'll stop the world and melt with you_

_I'll stop the world and melt with you_

_I'll stop the world and melt with you_


	13. To The End

_He calls the mansion not a house but a tomb._  
He's always choking from the stench and the fume.  
The wedding party all collapsed in the room.  
So send my resignation to the bride and the groom.

 

I don’t ever get visitors, never. I’m alone all the time unless I need a pill update or I go and seek out the company of someone else. Right now, I’m alone in my rom, and I’m missing Emily. I’m missing her so much even though I’ve been away from her for barely half an hour. I don’t understand why I miss her so much. 

I know I adore her, I know I want to be with her. I want to kiss her, to stroke her hair. I want to sit and talk to her, hear all her opinions and thoughts, all the rambling, silliest thoughts and feelings. I want to hear her get angry, and argue with me. I want to hear her laugh again, hear her call me an idiot, and mostly seduce me, tease me with her little words and smiles. 

I could imagine us in my room, me pushing her down onto the bed and sitting next to her, play fighting with her over something dumb, like who was cooler, the Power Rangers or the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TURTLE TURTLE TURTLE!). I could see myself stroking her blue hair and smelling her neck. I bet it smelt of strawberries. I could see myself biting her lip gently and trying to gain access to her warm mouth so I could play with her tongue ring. She refused to kiss me, teasing me until I gave up and moved to kissing her neck, tickling her gently and giggling into her neck. She’d squeal and squirm as I bit into her soft neck, my body on top of hers. I could see myself kissing the space into her collarbones, the gently hollow of her neck. I could see her sitting up, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling my head to the side and fastening her teeth into my neck. Her legs would go either side of me, her body rubbing up into mine, moving as I pulled her up and into me, finally capturing her lips properly. 

 

 _Let’s go down!_  
This elevator only goes up to ten.  
He's not around.  
He's always looking at men  
Down by the pool,  
He doesn't have many friends.  
As they are face down and bloated,  
Snap a shot with the lens.

 

The beautiful image was just shattered as someone knocked on my door. I looked up from where my fingers had been strumming on Pansy, idling wasting time until I could sneak out and see Emily again. I’d been busted before, another nurse coming in and rumbling me. 

“Who is it?” I called, I’d already had my pill update, as my fourth meal of the day (once again stuffed full of those lovely ‘healthy’ vitamins to keep me alive and ticking!). There was a short pause and silence that 6655321 decided to fill with a puppy yawn, and then:

“Frankie? It’s me, it’s Mom,”

What the fuck?

“Mom?!” I gasped, shocked. My jaw hit the floor, but I instantly jumped up and went over to the door, leaving Pansy on my bed and disturbing my sleepy little pupiscle. Opening the door, my jaw (if it’s possible) drops even further. I don’t ever recognise her.

Ok, so here’s the last memory I have of my mom. Imagine a woman who’s even smaller than I am. Well, shorter anyway, I’m chubby enough that anyone looks thinner than me. But I mean, she’s really thin, as in tiny. Her wrists were frail and she always tried to hide them with her old fashioned gold watch, and bracelets and all that stuff. She’s looked quite old, her body’s small and looks frail but she’s pure muscle and she’s fucking strong willed for a mom. She never gave up trying to look away me on her own, until she had a heart attack and had to give me up, for both our sakes. So yeah, my mom. She’s got a beautiful face, a kind of natural Botox so her face looks so much younger than it should. She had dark brown hair that still looks as good as it must have done when she was 18 and a smile that lit up every room she was in – the permanent optimist, no matter how tough the odds were. But at the same time she carried a constant stroke of sorrow, the touch of it in the corner of her eyes, where the line crinkled, or in the seconds the smile faltered. 

That was my mom then – beautiful but worn, tiny but loving. She worked hard every day but always seemed to be there exactly when I needed her, to talk, to comfort, for anything. 

 

_If you marry me._  
Would you bury me?  
Would you carry me to the end?

 

This is what I saw now. My mom was still small and thin, but something had happened – she’d filled out, grown rounder and more solid. Her face was fuller too – her cheeks seemed rounder, her cheekbones more or less gone and her eyes now sparkled. I never remembered the sparkle in them, she was always too tired. And her clothes were different too. She wore tight jeans, high heeled boots and a soft woollen jumper, the kind that smell like memories. The only thing that hadn’t changed was her hair, it still curved in soft waves around her shoulders, gleaming in it’s chestnut brown glory. I wanted to reach out and stroke it but my arm was frozen, I was too shocked staring at the mom who seemed to have dropped 30 years, become her proper age of 33 after living at 60 with me.

“Mom…you look different,” I managed to choke out eventually after we both stared at each other. She was looking me up and down, taking in every ragged, worn detail of me. She was probably checking for malnourishment, and found overfeeding. She’d been looking for puncture wounds and found piercings. She’d been looking for love when she found vague shock.   

“So do you, Frankie,” she smiled, and it was really my mom – no one had such a warm, familiar smile. I stepped forward, turning back into the clumsy teenager she’d let go and wrapping my arms around her, her head just able to rest on my shoulder, she really was tiny even if the heels gave her a few more inches. 

 

 _So say goodbye to the vows you take._  
And say goodbye to the life you make.  
And say goodbye to the hearts you break.  
And all the cyanide you drank.

 

“I missed you,” I sniffed, sucking back in the emotions flooding back – the childish need to cling to her and cry. She smiled again, her eyes soft and I let her into my room, wishing now I’d tidied up some more. She ignored the mess and went straight over to sit on my bed, scratching the pooch’s ear. 

“I missed you, baby. How are they treating you?” she asked me. I shrugged as I sat down next to her, biting my lip. Three years apart, I was torn between adoring my mother and being wary of a stranger. 

“It’s ok…sometimes it’s horrible, other times it’s ok, but mostly it’s…well, I don’t like it to be honest, but I’m ok. I’m good,” I said, looking at my knees. 6655321 yawned and stretched his little chocolate coloured belly, before crawling onto my lap, looking up at me with his big golden eyes. He looked as if he was asking me to take him to Emily, but not yet. I jumped when Mom touched my shoulder. 

“I wish you didn’t have to be in here. I’d give anything to have ya back home with me,” she said gently, reaching up to stroke my hair away from my face. I didn’t look at her, I knew I couldn’t, I’d just break down. 

All the resentment of abandonment was beginning to come back to me. 

 

 _She keeps a picture of the body she lends._  
Got nasty blisters from the money she spends.  
She got a life of her own and it shows,  
By the Benz she drives at 90 by the Barbie's and Kens.

 

“You couldn’t manage it though…you were working far too hard,” I sighed. She nodded. 

“Yes, baby, I was, and it lead to my heart attack. Well, it wasn’t your regular heart attack, there was a strain in my main artery, a tear,” she tried to explain, but she could never remember the exact name for anything. 

“Just like Emily,” I said softly. 

“Pardon?” she asked, she didn’t hear me properly. I twitched, I hadn’t realised I’d said that out loud. 

“Nevermind,” I said, the corners of my mouth curving softly. My mom sighed deeply and continued to touch the side of my face, as if she couldn’t believe I was right in front of her. 

“Oh come on, tell your mama,” she smiled, teasing me. “Emily, right? A girl?”

“No, mom, a Martian,” I chuckled and she cuffed the top of my head, pulling me for a light hug. 

 

 _If you ever say, never too late._  
I'll forget all the diamonds you ate.  
Lost in coma and covered in cake.  
Increase the medication.  
Share the vows at the wake.  
Kiss the bride.

 

“Come on, tell me about her, I’m curious. Has my adorable little Frankie found love?” she teased. I rolled my eyes. 

“I don’t know yet…”

“Ah! So you like her!” she cut me. 

“Ok, yes, I like her, Mom, she’s hard not to like, she’s really cool…” I said evasively. My mom just smiled at me in that infuriating knowing way. 

“She’d be a fool to resist the famous Iero charm,” she chuckled. “You’ve had girls panting for you since the 4 th grade!”

“Mom!” I cried, blushing. She chuckled and reached up to stroke my cheek. 

“You’re so easily embarrassed. I can tell you think the world of this girl,” she smiled at me. I nodded slowly. 

“She’s…she’s what a girl should be like – fun, crazy and hot,” I said honestly. She laughed again. 

“At least you’ve got you priorities straight!” she chuckled. “So where is this girl? Does she go here?”

I nodded reluctantly. “She does, she’s in Internal Care right now…she had an episode last night,”

 

 _If you marry me._  
Will you bury me?  
Would you carry me to the end?  
So say goodbye to the vows you take.  
And say goodbye to the life you make.  
And say goodbye to the heart you break.  
And all the cyanide you drank.

 

My mom made a sympathetic noise in her throat, and pulled me backwards into a hug, her arms crossing across my chest. She was comforting me, but I wasn’t crying, I was just thinking how surreal this entire meeting was. 

“Mom, this is the first time you ever visited me here…why’d you come now? Is something wrong?” I asked, suddenly scared. She shook her head, letting go of me and smiling secretly. 

“No, nothing’s wrong, my baby,” she smiled. 

“Then what is it?” I asked, curious. She took her time replying, her words stumbling, unsure of themselves. 

“You know…the doctor who saved me? He asked me to dinner soon after you left me, when I was at a check-up and he saw me crying. Being in the hospital reminded me of you and I just started crying…and he came and comforted me and told me it was for the best, how they’d look away you here, and then he asked me out,” she told me, slowly and softly. So softly it was a gentle whisper of an echo of a voice I once cherished. It was more like a dream than anything else. 

 

  
 _So say goodbye to the last parade._  
And walk away from the choice you’ve made.  
And say goodnight to the heart you break,  
And all the cyanide you drank.

 

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, confused. She bit her lip, looking down so her hair fell like a curtain around her face. When she looked up at me, she was smiling widely and looked so happy I knew she was going to tell me something romantic. 

“We’ve…we’ve been dating for the past three years, I’ve been living with him for the past year and, well…” she lifted her hand and I saw the harsh glint of a diamond studded engagement ring. I bit my lip, unable to look away, just staring at it. 

“Well, say something, Frankie, please,” she begged, taking my hand. I inhaled deeply, feeling a bit light headed. 

“Congratulations,” I choked out. Overcome, my mom just gasped in happiness and threw her arms around me, pulling me into a hug I hadn’t had in three years. She didn’t let me go either, just clung to me, sobbing in loud, messy gasps on my shoulder, telling me all these things – about how handsome he is, and such a good husband and how much she loves him and how he saved her and all this stuff that’s meant to make me love him too. 

But I can’t be happy. I just can’t. My mother’s body fails and she sends me away to save herself and me – fair enough. Then she spends three years away from me. With him. The one who actually saved her, when it was me slowly killing her. She replaced me with someone else she loved far more and she spent all her time with him – she couldn’t spare an afternoon in the past three years to see me. Even on my birthday, or at Christmas. 

 

 _So say goodbye to the vows you take._  
And say goodbye to the life you make.  
And say goodbye to the heart you break.  
And all the cyanide you drank.

 

And she wanted me to be happy? Happy that she was happy without me in her life now? Happy when I was stuck inside here? Alone and clinically depressed and filled with chemicals and surrounded by nurses and doctors and freaks and the only rays of light in my world were my dog, my guitar, my friends and Emily. 

But as she sobbed in my arms, suddenly so much more real than I’d ever remembered her, I couldn’t bear to see her cry in anguish. I just knew that when she left my room, left me again, the next time I saw her she’d be in a wedding dress, and marrying a new life. And then never again after that. 

I couldn’t bear to waste this one last moment with her on harsh words of anger and angst. I didn’t want to yell at her, make her feel as bad as I do stuck inside here while she lives her brand new life. And when I began to cry on her shoulder, it wasn’t because I was so happy to see her again, it was because I was happy I’d never see her again. 

She’d be spared me. 

 

 _To the last parade._  
And the parties fade.  
And the choice you made.  
To the end.


	14. Regrets and Romance

_Now I see the truth in your eyes._  
This time it lasts forever...   
Now I see the truth in your eyes.   
Tell me what you're looking for...

 

Opening my eyes, I sucked in my breath so forcefully it hit the back of my throat and made me choke. I sat up, coughing and brushing tears from under my eyes. Closing my lids, I shivered violently and rubbed my naked arms. Sweat stuck like a second coat to my skin, but I was freezing at the same time. 

For the longest time, my nightmares had meant nothing to me – they were merely images that flickered across my vision at night, like a late night horror movie where the blood was too red and the monsters too unrealistic. I rarely got upset by them, and hardly ever got woken by them. 

But this time, I had dreamt so vividly, of such horrifying things, my body had jolted awake, my heart racing and my muscles trembling. I felt like being sick, curling up under the blankets and whispering comfort until I fell back into nulling sleep. But instead I swung my legs out of bed, kicking the tangled bed sheet off. The air in my room was as still as ever, and silent as I found some tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt, shoving my feet inside some shoes 6655321 hadn’t used as a teething chew toy. The little pup was sleeping upside down in my hoodie, so I carefully scooped him up and nestled him into the warm patch I’d vacated, shoving my hoodie over my head. He wriggled into a comfy patch and yawned in the cutest way ever. 

I checked my watch, it was a little after midnight. I was glad I’d woken up, but I didn’t know if I’d prefer waking up from a nightmare or waking up to the shrill sounds of the alarm I set for 1. I switched it off and rubbed my eyes hastily, wondering if they were as red and as puffy as they felt. 

I was as silent as a cat as I padded through the Institute corridors, glancing around each corner and listening carefully for the jingle of key’s on a nurse’s belt or the footfalls of a guard. It didn’t take me long to steal my way outside Emily’s room. I wasted no time, this time, pushing the handle down and slipping inside the dark room. Emily was asleep, lying in her bed and still bound by the leather restraints. Even though, she looked peaceful and not too pissed off. Did she always scowl in her sleep? I slipped my shoes off and quickly crossed the room to stand by her. A ray of light from outside shone across her pillow, lighting up her soft sheen of blue hair. Her face was turned up, bathed in shadow except for strong streaks of highlights across her furrowed brow. I guessed she was having bad dreams too. I reached out and touched her hand, entwining our fingers gently. 

“You’re so cold,” I whispered, the silence beginning to oppress me. All I could hear was my stammered breathing and the sound of my heart beating. Emily’s fingers squeezed back. 

 

 _Now I see the truth in your eyes._  
This time it lasts forever...   
Now I see the truth in your eyes.   
Tell me what you're looking for...

 

“I’m a light sleeper too,” she mumbled, shifting slightly in the bed and opening her eyes, looking up at her with hidden, dark eyes. “Morning,” she said, before yawning widely, her tongue stud glistening. I smiled softly. 

“Indeedy! You ok?” I asked, rubbing sleep from the corner of my eye. She shrugged. 

“No. My shoulders are killing me,” she moaned. I smiled and shifted her hair, looking for the buckles of the shoulder traps. They were awkwardly placed so she couldn’t reach them herself. After a few minutes, I found it and teased the buckle pieces out of each other, before moving to the other one. Soon, her shoulders were loose. She sat up and stretched her shoulders, wincing at the audible clicks. I tried to ignore her small hospital gown stretching over her impressive bust, and unhooked the shoulder restraint from the bed, tossing it to the floor. Emily was leaning forward, curving her back in the ray of moonlight and rubbing her neck, rubbing her face. 

“You ok now?” I asked, as she reached down to unbuckle her feet. She nodded, yawning. 

“I’m fucking tired and sore and cranky and all that stuff. I really hate it here, y’know? It’s like something out of a bad Hollywood movie,” she moaned. I smirked and climbed onto her bed, reshuffling her pillows so I could lean against the headrest with my legs either side of her, and she laid back onto my chest with a big sigh. 

 

_To fall asleep with you would be heaven;  
for once this dream won't be short lived.   
Take me with you; show me all life's splendors._

 

“You’re a lot comfier than the shoulder thing,” she sighed, closing her eyes and relaxing as I wrapped my arms around her upper shoulders, hugging her close. 

“It’s the extra blubber the pills give me,” I giggled. She smirked and returned around to poke my tummy, making me squeak. 

“Fatty,”

“Hey!” I retorted, poking her stomach so she moaned. 

“No pokey the pouch,” she told me sleepily, blinking slowly, sleep crackled around her eyelids. Her face had been cleaned, the skin around her eyes looking scrubbed and oddly bright, she looked a lot younger and her eyes smaller without her make up on. 

“I won’t poke yours if you don’t poke mine,” I offered and she shrugged. 

“Fair enough,” she yawned. “I’m so sleepy,”

“It’s the sedatives, I’ll bet,” I smiled. 

“What about you, you sleepy?”

“I will be in a while, but no worries, I can fall asleep any time, any where,” I assured her. “If you wanna go to sleep, go,” I said softly. She nodded. 

 

_I've been waiting for life's last breath...  
I've been waiting for life's last breath..._

 

“I’ll try and stay awake for a bit, I wasn’t having a good dream,” she complained. My eyebrow cocked as I relaxed a bit more into the pillows, her warm body heat spreading into me. 

“Me neither…” I sighed. 

“Did yours have doctors?” she asked. 

“Um, no,”

“Operations?”

“Nope,”

“Blood?”

“Yep,”

“Dingoes?”

“…Um…no,”

“Ah, well, I win,”

I chuckled at her crazy logic and stroked her messy blue hair down, stopping it getting in my eyes.

“You’re troubled,” she said a minute or two later. I instantly frowned. 

“How’d you work that one out?” I asked. 

“It’s obvious, something’s bothering you, what is it?”

What was I meant to do? Tell her Quince had shown me exactly what was wrong with her, how serious her heart condition was, how close she was to dying? Was I meant to be honest on how that made me feel, even when I wasn’t too sure myself? Was I meant to tell her I was feeling something for her, or that I loved her? Did I love her? I didn’t know, but I might as well love her, I’d never find anyone better than her in any way possible, and with both of us so close to death, what harm did ‘I love you’ inflict on a permanently broken heart and a permanently broken spirit? Was I meant to say some sort of cheesy line of a romantic comedy and tell her I was afraid I was losing her, that she was slipping away from something we hadn’t quite defined yet? Or was I just scared because if she died, I’d be all alone, and I didn’t want to die alone. 

I never wanted to die alone. 

 

_The world wouldn't turn without you;  
breathing its air, I'd take you anywhere..._

 

“Frank?” she asked, when I didn’t reply. I swallowed painfully, unsure what to say, she’d know if I was bullshitting by making something up. Then, an idea came to me. 

“I…I got a visitor today. My mom came to see me,” I said slowly, closing my eyes. It wasn’t ever like my mom had come to see me, it was like someone who used to be my mother had. She was a different person, a happy person, and she was nothing like I remembered her. 

“Really? Does she visit often?” asked Emily, twisting her head to look up at me. I opened my eyes and snorted. 

“No. This is the first visit she’s paid ever since I came here,” I sighed. Emily’s eyes widened. 

“What? Why?!” she cried. I shrugged and stared off into the dark corners of the hospital room, Emily’s weight giving me a dead leg, but I couldn’t be bothered to move. 

“Well…at first I was always causing trouble and trying to break out, and mom was ill and worn out and recovering and stuff and then…I guess she got busy and couldn’t find the time for me,” I sighed. “It wasn’t like I was the model son, I was a little shit for the first year or so I was here, and mom couldn’t bear to see me,”

“But that’s not a good enough reason not to come at all! You’re still her son, you need her around! She practically abandoned you here!” she cried. I snorted, my fringe hiding my eyes. 

“Practically?”

 

_For once this is one of those dreams  
That I can spare, but you rather spare me._

 

There was a short silence as Emily gaped at me, unable to believe this. 

“She doesn’t need me anyway, she deserves something better,”

“Frank, don’t make excuses for her, she’s not acting like a mother should…”

“Hey, she did her best for years, ok? She worked so hard to look after me and get everything I needed and now she deserves the choice to waste her time or not!”

“Visiting her only son isn’t a waste of time!” 

“Well, I probably won’t be the only one for very long,” I sighed. 

“What?”

“She’s getting married again, she came to tell me she’s found someone who makes her happy,” I sighed bitterly, being honest with Emily and myself about how I felt over my mom’s sparkling new life. 

“And that gives her a good excuse to ignore your existence? At least my parents have a good reason not to visit! Your mom can’t treat you like this!”

“Like what?!”

_Now I see the truth in your eyes.  
This time it lasts forever...   
Now I see the truth in your eyess_

 

 

“Like a part time thing! Like you don’t matter, like you don’t mean anything to anyone except those who bother to remember you’re alive!”

I could see much of what Emily was saying was reflected on both of us, that she was feeling just as bitter and betrayed as I was, but even though her wounds were fresher, she was still making me angry. 

“Well, that’s ok, because I don’t matter, ok? I mean shit all to anyone, and my mom knows that!” I retorted, my arms dropping by my sides. Emily sat up and turned to me, putting her hands either side of my face and forcing me to look at her. 

“You mean something to me,” she said fiercely. I scowled. 

“Then you’re wasting your time, this is all a waste of time, because we’re both so close to dying it isn’t funny, and now I know I can die in peace because my mom has someone else providing for her than the government,” I said harshly. Emily scowled back, matching mine. 

“You’re not gonna die any day soon, so stop acting like the world’s falling apart and get a grip!” she sighed irritably. “I know you’re upset because she’s forgotten you but-“

“She hasn’t forgotten me,” I defended her, cutting Emily off coldly. She rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, yeah, she only just remembered to come visit for the first time in years, and only to tell you she’s moving on in life, leaving you behind,” she said. No matter how fucking right she was, she still pissed me off. 

“Don’t talk about my mom like that!” I yelled, sliding off the bed and walking away. 

“Frank, it’s true, she stopped caring, just like my parents have! There is no one left! There’s only us and this fucking hellhole! Why can’t you accept your mom’s just a –“

I turned on her so sharply she gasped, sucking back the foul word and jumping backwards, almost off the bed. 

 

_Tell me what you're looking for...  
Now I see the truth in your eyes.   
This time it will be forever..._

 

“Don’t. Even. Think. Of. Saying. It,” I threatened, my fists clenched and my face inches from hers. “Don’t even THINK of calling her a bitch!” 

Emily didn’t say anything, just stared back at me. Her eyes were shining but her face was screwed up in a stubborn scowl of unhappiness. I sighed and turned away, running my hands through my hair, walking over to the window. Emily gave a breathy sob behind me and silence fell between us. 

Eventually, I heard her speak again. 

“Look…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that about your mom…it’s just…I’m jealous I guess, and angry, and this is all so, so horrible,” she said quietly. I turned around to face her, leaning against the window. She couldn’t see my face. 

“Why are you jealous of me? You’ve seen how crappy my life is. At least you had a life worth living once upon a time,” I said tensely. She snorted. 

“Oh, yeah, what a fucking fairy tale. A dad so close to abusive it’s not funny and a mom who criticises every fucking move I made. And then this happens and they dump me here and all the way here, it’s like the fucking family of the year award and they’re acting like they can’t bear to let me go, and then they’re gone in the same day, back to the fucking suburbs,” she told me bitterly. I let her finish. “And I get here and you know how horrible it is, you’ve been through it, and then there’s you and you’ve got such a chance to live and to be happy and successful and you can’t even see that, and then you’re upset because your mom comes to visit you after so long, but you don’t get how lucky you are to have a mom that loved you when she had you, instead of parents that only love you when you’re not there. You’re lucky because you’re so close to having everything and I’m just stuck here, in a fucking country I’ve never been to before, strapped to a bed, filled with chemicals and just fucking dying,” she broke down into tears, curling up and wiping her eyes with the sheet, turning away from me. I watched her for a while before going over to her, wrapping my arms around her stiffly. 

“It’s ok, it’s all ok,”

“No, it’s not! Because now I’ve pissed you off cos I called your mom a bitch! This is…it’s just fucking horrible,” she sobbed, hiding her head in my chest, clinging onto me. 

“I’m not that pissed…and plus, you didn’t actually call her a bitch, I cut you off,” I shrugged. She snuffled, half laughing through her tears. I climbed back onto the bed with her and pulled her onto my lap, hugging her close. 

“No, seriously, you can stop crying,” I whispered, closing my eyes and breathing in deeply. “It really is ok…you’re right. You’re so totally right,” I sighed. “My mom is a bitch, she’s forgotten about me. When I was little, she used to adore me, her mechanical baby because I woke up and fell asleep exactly the same every day. It got worse as a grew up and every year I got worse, she stopped loving she a little bit more, but she still did her best. She was never home, even when she didn’t have work, she was never home, off chasing her own fairytale. And then this happened and she dropped me so fast I didn’t even see her let go…and now she’s got this new life and I’m alone here, and I feel like a fucking ghost, because I’m already dead…even though she lives only a bus ride away and I can still see her, it’d be like I was haunting her and she doesn’t want me in the pretty picture anymore…oh God, I feel so alone,”

 

_I'll trust you if you'll just trust me.  
If this isn't what you wanted, then tell me what is..._

 

Emily’s grip on me loosened and she sat back a bit, looking me straight in the eyes. Her face was so close to mine, her breath just tickling my skin. My eyes flickered between hers, shining so brightly in the fragile light that it almost hurt to stare back. They moved down to her lips, full and round, slicked by her tongue, the flash of a tongue stud and my lip twitched, amused. I looked back into her eyes and reached up slowly, my fingers brushing her hair gently to the side, gracing over her skin. I felt her cold fingers trace a line of a tear down my cheek, and she slowly leaned forward to kiss it away, moving to my other cheek to kiss away that sorrow too. Opening my eyes, I saw her still looking at me with those knock out orbs and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. 

“You’re not alone,” she whispered gently, leaning in to brush our lips together slowly. “Anymore,”   

 

_But our roles have been filled, as they should with hidden messages in secret songs...  
  
This is my last breath of air, your last chance to love_


	15. No One In The World

I woke up to find Emily in my arms. That had never happened before, ever. I’d never, ever, in my entire life woken up with a girl in my arms. Let alone a girl I knew was mine, fully. She and I fitted in ways I never had with anyone. We could talk for hours, laugh and cry together, or just lie in each other’s embrace and kiss. 

Ah, now, kissing. There was a whole barrel of fun I’d overlooked. I’ve kissed girls before, been around the corner with one or two in my crappy social life, but this had only resulted in a few drunken kisses at parties and one or two half girlfriends who turned out to be sluts or bitches. 

Nothing like Emily. Kissing her felt forbidden, and so much fun I never wanted to stop, even when my tongue went fuzzy from kissing her so long and I got so tired I could barely move my lips in time to hers. That tongue stud was amazing! She laughed at me and kissed my forehead, telling me to sleep. And then I was gone, only to wake to a blue of midnight blue and the cutest face ever. She was adorable when she slept. 

 

_Smiles and her laughter  
It's the only thing that I've been waiting for a time   
Regardless of our distance and our hope...grows greater_

 

I checked the clock and did a take. It was early. I did a quick calculation. I’d had a few hours sleep between Mom and Emily, and somehow managed to stay awake for a hour or two longer than I should’ve! And usually I sleep until 12 or 1, it was 9. And yet I didn’t feel tired. 

Dismissing it, I looked down at Emily and kissed her forehead, stroking back her hair. I couldn’t believe how attached to her I felt. Was this love? Gerard would know, I’d ask him next time I saw him…

“Morning,” she whispered, refusing to open her eyes. I grinned, the sound of her voice, even croaky, was the best thing in the world. 

“Morning,” I told her, my fingers trailing down her cheek. 

“I’m fucking tired, sleepy sleep,” she grumbled, wriggling away from the morning light and burying her face in my chest. I grinned and kissed the top of her head. 

“Then go back to sleep,” I said. She yawned. 

“Can’t now, you’re awake too…don’t get that very often,” she grumbled. 

 

_Trapped by pretty eyes and letters for all time  
...the only thing that I've been waiting for_

 

“I’m nearly always awake when you are,” I defended. She didn’t respond, falling back asleep again. My darling girl was all worn out, emotionally and physically drained. I kissed her head again and slipped out of her arms, pulling the blanket up over her body as she wriggled into my vacated warm spot. My body was stiff and the floor was cold against my bare feet. 

“I’m come back and see you later,” I promised, bending down to kiss her cheek, squeeze her fingers. I slipped my shoes on and left the room as quietly as I could manage, watching her until the door snapped shut. Walking away, I had a big stupid grin on my face and an odd spring in my step. I felt on top of the world, like there was a big weight off my chest and I’d just floated up onto the ceiling. Everytime I thought of Emily, her smiles, her eyes, her kisses, my heart would give a little tingle and my chest would tighten.

“You’re in a good mood,” commented a voice to my right. I turned and found Malcolm sitting in his usual chair, but today his arms were strapped to the arm rests, feet clamped down too. He looked cheerful enough though. I stopped and smiled. 

“It happens sometimes. What’s with the restraints?”

He looked down, and shrugged as best he could. 

“I tried to get out last night. I had an episode,” he sighed. 

Malcolm has schizophrenia, pretty bad too. Most nights he had to be locked in his room, and often sedated because his other personality was a lot more violent than this one. But I’d never seen him with restraints on his chair before. And, as far as I knew, he’d never tried to break out. 

 

_I hope its something worth the waiting  
Cause its the only thought that I ever feel real_

 

“Shit man…looks serious,” I said, biting my lip. He shrugged, then smiled ironically. 

“They tell me I tried to attack a nurse, and ended up doing myself an injury. I’m waiting to go into theatre,” he sighed. I noticed he was dressed in those irritating hospital gowns, his legs covered by a tartan blanket. 

“Fuck. What’d you do?” I asked, my mood dropping. 

“They tell me my hips gave, crumbled under my weight. It…it hurts,” he said simply, looking up and meeting my eyes again. I could see it – it still hurt underneath the painkillers. He was in so much pain he could barely stand it. 

“Oh fuck it Malcolm…what’re they gonna do to you?” I asked, biting my lip. 

“Artificial hips. I won’t be able to walk afterwards, in case the weight breaks my kneecaps with the pressure,” he sighed. I remember that Malcolm’s highlight of the week was his walk along the promenade. I’d accompanied him a few times, but he walked so slowly it used to annoy me. He was still good conversation, but when he stopped and stared out at the sea he’d faded away and I’d get irritated and feel guilty because this was the only chance he got a week to go out on his own two feet. 

And now he didn’t even have that.

 

_Thunder storms could never stop me  
Cause there's no one in the world like Emily_

 

It was so depressing I felt a wave pass over me, as we stayed in silence. Then, Malcolm, the way he always does, moved the topic on flawlessly to a more cheerful subject. 

“So, just got laid did you?”

I almost tripped over whilst standing still. 

“What?!”

Malcolm smiled up at me innocently. 

“Well, did you?”

“No!!”

“That’s a pity. I saw you sneaking into the new girl’s room last night – could see from my hospital bed, couldn’t sleep of course, but you didn’t come out all night and I heard a lot of noise coming from inside there,” he smirked. My eyes were practically bulging out of my skull, my jaw hanging open. 

 

_She's simple yet confusing  
Her sparkling eyes make me weak at my words, they tremble_

 

“We weren’t having sex! We are arguing…at first,” I told him, dropping my voice in case someone overheard me. 

“Well, that’s good, she’ll keep you occupied if she manages to get an opinion out of you full stop,” chuckled Malcolm. I stuck my tongue out at him. Usually I was such a moper that I didn’t have very good opinions, I tended to agree and move on, never in the right frame of mind to discuss or debate – two of Malcolm’s favourite things. 

“She’s amazing, she really is. Except she’s gonna have a hard time with the sedates and stuff, she hates needles,” I sighed. Malcolm made a face. 

“Who does? I got seven this morning,” he sighed dramatically, making me smirk. 

“How long’s the recovery period?” I asked.

“I should be ok to play chess again in two days, so Thursday morning you and I are going to have a game, consider yourself challenged,” he smiled ruefully. 

 

_Days seem like years in this month of December  
The winter coldens me for I have yet to sleep   
And never will I give up trying cause you're everything to me_

 

“Consider it accepted. Em should be released on Thursday too, I’ll bring her along, you’ll love her,” I grinned. Malcolm’s lips twitched into a smile, a dirty glint in his eye as he stared at me. I scowled. 

“Stop it – I’m allowed to have gooey feelings over a girl,” I hmphed. His eyebrows rose even further. 

“’Gooey’?”

“Ok, Malcolm, time to – oh, hello Frank!”

I looked over Malcolm’s head to where Jilly was, holding a clipboard and a doughnut. 

“Hey Jilly,” I smiled, shuffling my feet. 

“You here to see Malcolm?” she asked sweetly. I wondered if she knew as well as Malcolm that I’d spent last night in the arms of the most amazing girl ever. 

“I only just found out he was going into theatre,” I said awkwardly. 

 

_I hope it's something worth the waiting  
It's the only thought that I ever feel real_

 

“Yes, it’s unfortunate, but he should be ok. You ready to go, Malcolm? I got you your favourite – jam,” she smiled, offering him the doughnut. He took it and looked at it sadly. 

“I’m touched Jilly, dear, it’s lovely, but I’m not hungry. Here you go, boy,” he smiled, handing me the wrapped baked good, which I eagerly took. Jilly reminded me of my pills, I wished Malcolm best health and watched them leave, heading for the operating theatre. I sighed and wolfed down the doughnut, heading for my room. 

I picked up 6655321, and took him to go do his doggy business, and then to the kitchen for food. Someone had left me curry – yum- and the pup some dogfood, so I sat down and ate it, staring off into space and smiling widely. 

I wondered if this was what normal life was like…feeling happy for no reason, smiling when you thought of the person you liked and feeling almost content, despite how crappy your life could be, or how crappy your friend’s lives around you were. I’d never had a normal life, not one I could remember. 

 

_Thunder storms could never stop me  
Cause there's no one in the world like Emily_

 

When I was eleven, my school went on a field trip. I was excited because I was going to high school the next year, and this was the last field trip I’d ever have to go on with my friends from primary school. We were all just so pepped because we were going to an adventure course. You know, those places where they get you to climb walls of fake rocks with the gear and then you abseil down the other side, grab a water pistol and get through the obstacle course without getting too wet, but running through tunnels and jumping over bridges and crawling on your tummy under wires and balance on things. And then you got to swing rope across a big pool of water and slide down into a big pit of mud and then there was some running, to get to a bike which you biked to a big tree, which you had to climb to firefox across to the next bit and it looked like so much fun. They walked us through it, one of the instructors doing it as the other pointed out what to do and what not to do on pain of excruciating death. It was the first field trip we’d ever been on that was any fun – not looking at art or castles or measuring how deep rivers were. 

My friends and I were so excited, we couldn’t keep the grins off our faces. And as we were walking to the changing rooms so get our hard hats and protective gear, I felt a hand on my shoulder. 

“Not you, Frank, you can’t do this,”

I never understood why, as they carted me off to a different part of the building to watch movies and mess around with Lego until my friends came in for lunch – all covered in mud and grinning and full of hilarious stories and laughter. I’d never understood why I’d been singled out to be isolated, left on my own to amuse myself as I tried not to feel rejected. 

But I did feel rejected, and it was the beginning of the worse feeling in the world. I only found out years later of being singled out in games and forbidden from doing certain things that it was due to my illness. 

An illness I didn’t even know I had while I kept smiling. Smiling like the smile Emily gave back to me. 

  
_There's no one in the world like Emily_


	16. Broken Without You

“Go on, you can do it,” grinned Emily. I shook my head, looking at her and smiling. 

“No, I can’t, too wild,” I grinned. She phhted, blowing air up sharply, making her bang fly up next to her face and smirking. 

“Sure you can, you can do anything,” she told me. I chuckled, dropping my head and shaking it. 

“No way, baby, I don’t think it’s a good idea _now_ , you know?” I said, looking back up at her. She raised her eyebrows and sighed. 

“Pussy, I think you should do it,” she said. 

“Oh, do you?” 

“Yes, yes, I really do. Do it,” she grinned cheekily. My eyebrow raised. 

“Ok – I get it! You two can stop your ridiculous undercover flirting, it’s so obvious it’s rotting my teeth! Knock if off, you teenagers,” 

We both looked over at Malcolm who, while looking genuinely despairing of us, was smirking. I sighed deeply, shaking my head at both of them critically and moving the knight Emily wanted me to. 

 

 _I wanted you to know_  
That I love the way you laugh   
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away   
I keep your photograph   
And I know it serves me well   
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

 

“Happy?” I asked both of them. 

“Yep,” they said simultaneously, chuckling. 

“Bullies,” I muttered.

We were in the courtyard again, sitting in our usual spot on the benches. Emily was cosied up next to me, her legs crossed and leaning on her elbows, watching the game intently. Her warmth was spread into me, as we were sitting in the shade. Malcolm was sitting in the sun, enjoying it. Emily, on the other hand, was feeling the after-effects of a big dose of sedates – it’s like a hangover from hell. But at least she looked amazing. 

Ripped black tights, her boots, the short black demin skirt, a green Clockwork Orange t shirt on and the usual black shirt rolled up at the elbows, her baggy black hoodie tied around her waist. She hadn’t really bothered with too much make up or brushing her hair today, it blew around her face like mad tendrils of blue, whirling and flickering around her pale face. Her eyes were hidden by some enormous sunglasses though, leaving only her smile.  

As for me, the usual ripped jeans, a black t-shirt with ‘Just Think Happy Thoughts’ scrawled on it, thanks to Gerard, and a Green Day hoodie. Emily had stolen my black and purple tie the second I left my room to meet her.  

“Oh shut up, you love us really,” giggled Emily as Malcolm leaned forward to check the board. 

 

_Because I'm broken when I'm lonesome  
And I don't feel right when you're gone away_

 

“Meh. You’re both ill, and you both smell of hospitals. Did either of you shower?” I asked. 

“Can’t stand up, can’t wheel myself into the shower, can’t shower,” defended Malcolm, still staring at the board. I looked at Emily, who blinked back, and hmphed. 

“What? I have to smell nice now? I only got let out of internal care this morning – I didn’t get a chance to shower before you came over asking me to come out with you, and here I am!” she said, spreading her hands. I couldn’t help but looking at her straining chest, which only made her pretend to slap me, grinning. 

“Yeah, but you had time to get dressed,” I pointed out. 

“Oh please, I’m female, like it takes effort to pick out the perfect outfit,”

“Then how come you’re always moaning about how long it takes you to get ready, as a gender?”

 

_You've gone away  
You don't feel me here anymore_

 

“Hair,” she answered simply. “As you can see, I skipped that hour long agony,” she shrugged. I smirked at Malcolm reached over and, hesitating, moved a bishop over the board. I was shocked, he didn’t kill my knight! Emily grinned next to me, and leaned over to whisper in my ear. 

“You can steal his rook now,” she growled seductively, her teeth grazing the tunnel on my earlobe. I smiled, licking my bottom lip and reaching over to steal his rook. Malcolm’s eyes popped open. 

“No way!” he gasped. “Dude!”

“How old are you? 15?” asked Emily, smirking. 

“Mentally? 16. Need to be to understand half the stuff either of you come out with,” chuckled Malcolm, mourning the loss of his rook. My knight was now untouchable, but he nicked a pawn as revenge. 

“How long have you been stuck inside here?” asked Emily curiously, my hand resting lazily on her thigh.

 

 _The worst is over now_  
And we can breathe again   
I wanna hold you high and steal my pain away   
There's so much left to learn   
And no one left to fight   
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

 

“Ever since I was 16. Hence the mental age. You stop living in this place, so you get stuck with the age you were last living with…like a ghost I imagine,” muttered Malcolm, voicing an opinion we all shared. 

“Bloody hell that’s a long time! No wonder you keep trying to bail,” said Em. Malcolm chuckled. 

“It is a long time, but when you get to how old as I am and you look back, it’s just the same day stretched over, and you only remember the really good parts,” he smiled. But he didn’t looked convinced by his own words. 

“Good news Frank, we’ll be young and immature forever,” Emily giggled, distracting Malcolm and looking at me, resting her palms on the stone bench and leaning forward, bunching her shoulders. I smirked. 

“I’ve been here for three years longer, does that mean I’m three years younger than you?”

“Oh dear, you’re right, that’s quite gross…hey, Malcolm, you’re mentally 16, much better, wanna be my boyfriend?” giggled Emily. He couldn’t help it, he threw back his head and laughed, the courtyard ringing with it. 

 

 _Cause I'm broken when I'm open_  
And I don't feel like I am strong enough   
Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome   
And I don't feel right when you're gone away

 

“You are one little firecracker!” he laughed, wincing as his ribs twinged. Emily grinned as I chuckled. 

“And she’s mine, you can’t have her,” I smirked, sitting up and wrapping my arm around the small of her back, rubbing my nose against hers. She grinned and gave me a soft kiss. 

“I am not a thing you can keep or lend, you know,” she pointed out. “I think you should apologise for being so un PC,” she threatened, giving me another kiss. She was teasing me, but I didn’t care. She was too cute. 

“You’re right, I’m so sorry, I deserve to be punished,” I winked slyly. 

“Oh just you wait,” she laughed, giving me another kiss. 

“Look, seriously, making me sick! Stop it. You two can do that when I’ve been wheeled away from my afternoon pee,” hmphed Malcolm. 

I made a face. 

 

 _Cause I'm broken when I'm open_  
And I don't feel like I am strong enough   
Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome   
And I don't feel right when you're gone away

 

“How romantic,” I muttered, looking back at the board. I couldn’t see a smart move, until Emily leaned over and whispered in my ear again, taking the opportunity to kiss my cheek. 

“Booyah! I got your knight!” I giggled, swiping it off the board, and somehow managing to keep my dood safe. Malcolm looked distraught. We continued to battle it out, Emily whispering moves in my ear, or letting me figure it out on my own, depending on how nice I was being. Eventually…

“Checkmate!” I crowed, grinning widely and punching the air in joy, Emily clapped as Malcolm held his head in his hands, moaning overdramatically. It was the first time – ever- in three years, I’d beaten him, or even come CLOSE to it! And it was all Emily’s doing!

“Thanks baby,” I grinned, leaning over and giving her a Hollywood kiss, cupping her back as she put her hands either side of my face, kissing me back while grinning. 

“You freak!” she laughed, pushing me off as Jilly came over to take Malcolm away. He shook my hand. 

 

_Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome  
And I don't feel right when you're gone_

 

“Good game, boy, I’ll see you again tomorrow. And you, young lady,” he said, addressing the midnight blue vixen “Are absolutely charming and a great pleasure to meet but-“ he smirked at this point “Terrible for my game!”

“What can I say?” she grinned, shaking his hand and leaning over to kiss his cheek goodbye. “I’m only lucky for one guy,”

“Me, right?” I checked as Malcolm was taken away, smiling ruefully as he cradled his beloved chess set on his lap. Emily pushed her sunglasses up on her hand and rolled her eyes. 

“Duh! Jeesh – are all guys dumbasses?” 

“Probably,” I smirked. “So you’re really my lucky charm?”

She smiled wickedly. “Kiss me and find out,”   

 

 _Cause I'm broken when I'm open_  
And I don't feel like I am strong enough   
Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome   
And I don't feel right when you're gone away


	17. She's the Girl

_Eight o'clock, Monday night and I'm waitin'_

_To finally talk to a girl, a little cooler than me_

_Her name is Nona, she's a rocker with a nose ring_

_She wears a two-way, but I'm not quite sure what that means_

 

“Em, come on! We’re gonna be late!” I moaned as she stuck her head inside yet another box labelled ‘clothes’ and rummaged around. 

“Shut up!” she yelled through the muffled edges of the box, practically losing herself inside. I couldn’t help but stare at her arse. 

“But we’ll be late!” I moaned, putting my head in my hands and leaning my elbows on my knees, pouting. It was quarter to 8, and I was sitting on the edge of Emily’s bed, ready and waiting for her to finish dressing herself. 

“Well, I would’ve been ready if you’re dragged yourself out of bed early enough to help me pick a shirt!” she said smartly, pulling herself out and smirking at me. She was wearing her favourite short black shirt, with patterned black and blue tights, ivy weaving up her legs and her big boots finishing them. On her wrists she wore her usual slaughter of bracelets, twinkling and glittering away, and around her neck was a heavy silver chain with spikes on it, a rainbow beaded chain laced as a choker around her neck. Her eyes were strongly outlined and coloured, absolutely stunning. She’s even coated her lips in some kind of lipgloss…it made them look big and pouty – I wanted them. She was wearing only her black bra though, unable to choose a top. Her breasts were amazing, but she didn’t let me play with them, just gave me a kiss when I arrived and sat me down, forcing me to help her look. 

But she’d promised I could play with them later, an added bonus. 

“I had to sleep, Em! You want me to pass out on the way home?” I grinned. I’d slept for such a long time that even if I spent the entire evening running at a sprint, I’d be ok enough to get home. Emily rolled her eyes and lifted up two shirts. 

“Ok, black or green?” she asked. 

“Um…black,” I decided, I liked black. She smiled and dropped the green, pulling the black shirt on. It was a tight fitting fishnet shirt, cut off at the elbows and completely see through. 

 

_And when she walks_

_All the wind blows and the angels sing_

_She doesn't notice me_

 

“Um, Em?” I said, pointing at her boobs. She ignored me, smirking. Next she pulled out a corset like top, winding it around her and doing up the clasps at the front. She looked amazing. The corset suited her figure beautifully, showing off her small waist and big breasts, while the fishnet stopped her looking slutty in any way. I grinned as she came over to me. 

“How’s this?” she asked, spinning. 

“It’s good,” I grinned, reaching out to take hold of her hips. She turned around. 

“Lace me up?” she asked, pointing to the loose lace up back. I tightened it and did it up in a bow, before pulling her down onto my lap. 

“Even better now,” I whispered in her ear, kissing it softly. She smiled and wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing me gently. 

“We’ll be late,” she warned as I reached up to stroke her (re-dyed) brilliant blue hair away from her face. That lipgloss tasted nice. 

“Don’t care, you taste good,” I grinned, biting her lip. She rolled her eyes and got up to find her lipgloss again. 

“Come on, baby,” she said when she was done, offering her hand as she found a short black coat and slipped it on. I took her hand and followed her out of the room. She looked me up and down as we walked down the corridor. 

“Mmm…you look gorgeous in that,” she smiled saucily. I was wearing black jeans with the knees ripped out, skater shoes, a tight black t shirt with half a textbook diagram of a skeleton printed on one side, an unbuttoned black shirt over that and a black jacket with zips and buckles all over it – my favourite jacket ever. Emily fell back into step with me, winding her arm around my waist and squeezing my arse. 

“Hey!” I giggled. She winked wickedly. 

 

_Cause she is watchin' wrestling_

_Creamin' over tough guys_

_Listenin' to rap-metal_

_Turntables in her eyes_

_It's like a bad movie_

_She is lookin' through me_

_If you were me, then you'd be_

_Screamin', someone shoot me_

_As I fail miserably_

_Tryin' to get the girl all the bad guys want_

_She's the girl all the bad guys want_

 

“Get over it,”

We kept walking together talking about stupid things, mainly about graffiti and vandalism today – Emily was telling me all the stories of drunkenly deviance she’d gotten up to as a younger teen and I was laughing along, joining in with one or two of my stories when I thought she’d appreciated them. She was so crazy – some of the stuff she’d done was plan ridiculous!

“So then, later, we got our hands on a shopping trolley and filled it to the brim with river sludge-“

“How’d you keep it in?”

“Oh, easy, just lined it with bin bags and duct tape!”

“Oh, right…”

“So yeah, we wheeled it alllll the way up to the top of this multi story car park, avoiding police cruisers and cameras so easily anyone could’ve done it! Then Sammy distract a video camera by dressing up in this Chav hoodie and starts break dancing in front of it – so it follows him just as all of us push this fucking heavy trolley full throttle just out of view of it and aim it straight as this wall – right on the top! So it hits, and the back goes up and the sludge just flies! Like, fucking flies! Out of the trolley and down all over the street below – soaking and fucking covering every single car and person below us!” she laughed, moving her hands in motion to the story.

“Oh my God!” I chuckled, staring at her with awe pouring out of my shocked face. “How’d you get out of there?!”

“We dived into my mate’s van and hid in it til the coast was clear – about five hours later. Then, a few of us drifted out and escaped on foot, while me, Sammy and Jim drove out – getting away Scott free before anyone could blame us!” she laughed as we reached the lobby. “Best part was hoodies were banned on the streets after 9 pm, but kids like us were just ignored,” she laughed, clutching my arm for support. I couldn’t help myself laughing, my jaw just hit the floor and I laughed louder than her – we filled the empty lobby with our laughter. 

 

_She likes the Godsmack and I like Agent Orange_

_Her CD changer's full of singers that are mad at their dad_

_She says, she'd like to score some reefer and a forty_

_She'll never know that I'm the best that she'll never have_

 

“So, so,” I tried to control myself “What did it look like the next morning?” I asked, choking on laughter. Emily spent a few minutes calming herself down, then snorted with laughter again. 

“Like God did a huge shit all over the highstreet! The splatter zone was huge!” she giggled, leaning on me for support. I wrapped my arms around her and reached down to press the button for the office. The chick who does the reception finally appeared, as Em and I got involved in a furious thumb war, me grabbing Emily’s elbow and spinning so she was leaning over my back, letting me win quickly and grab her legs, hoisting her up onto a piggy back. 

“We’re going out!” I declared, grinning widely. The receptionist stared at me like she’d never seen me before. I was never happy. Emily grinned behind me and kissed my ear. 

“Yep! And we’re gonna rob a bank and put diamonds in our drinks!” she giggled. The receptionist still looked confused, but shrugged and entered our names into the departure log. 

“You’ve gotta be back before midnight, that’s when the watch switches over and no one will be here to let you in,” she told us expressionlessly.

“Aye!” grinned Emily, still clinging to me. 

“And, you’ve got an appointment for 9 tomorrow morning – in Medical,” said the chick again – stealing Emily’s happiness. 

“Bye!” I said quickly and practically ran out of the lobby with Em still on my back, before letting her slide down and grabbing her in the ghostly moonlight, kissing her before she could even pout. 

“It’s ok, it won’t hurt anymore than your tongue piercing did,” I told her softly, holding either side of her head gently. Her hands rested on my wrists, her lips meeting mine again in a sweet kiss, her eyes big, wide and misty. 

“That fucking killed,” she smirked. I shrugged. 

“It’s better then – it’s just a pinch,” I told her, before pinching her arm. “See?”

 

_And when she walks_

_All the wind blows and the angels sing_

_She'll never notice me_

 

 “OW!” she complained, thumping my arm and pinching me back . 

“Ow!” I cried – her nails were bloody sharp! I started to chase her down the gravel path to the exit, reaching for her hips to pinch her, but she kept darting out of my way, dancing around me and laughing, her blue hair flowing around her like a sea nymph in the silvered light of the moon. 

“Come on, Frank, I don’t wanna be too late! Ger would killllllllll us!” she giggled, as I caught her and pretended to gobble up her neck, tilting her Hollywood style. I grinned and put her back on her feet. 

“Oh please – he’ll be too busy making out with Soph to notice,” I rolled my eyes, then grinned widely. “Then again – that’s a good plan!” 

She dodged my lips, grabbed my hand and dragged me away, singing Blur at the top of her voice and poking me to join in. We spent the ten minutes at the bus stop kissing like I’d never kissed before – rough and passionate and sexy, her tongue was like a demon, her lips tasted like heaven. 

Maybe that’s what started it, thinking about what it was like kissing her. Maybe it was something else entirely – like the way she wore her laces trailing, or the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed like a spaz. Maybe it wasn’t even anything to do with her – maybe it was Mom or the injections or Malcolm or even Gerard and his stupid razors. 

 

_There she goes again_

_With fishnets on, and dreadlocks in her hair_

_She broke my heart, I wanna be sedated_

_All I wanted was to see her naked_

 

I don’t think I really know. 

_But you have an idea?_

Maybe. Ask a man what he hums and he’ll give you an answer. Ask a man why he hums, and he can’t tell you why. I know I know the answer, but the words to explain it aren’t made up yet, y’know?

_Maybe, I’m not sure I know what you want me to tell you._

Tell me I’m not crazy, for starters. 

_That, I don’t think I can do – this isn’t about me. Do you think you’re crazy?_

Hahaha! Do I think I’m crazy? I’m in love! I’m obsessed with a girl with blue hair! I’m in love with rainbows and ice cream and smiles and stripy tights and bright green and silver nail polish – her dormobile and her smiley dog and her San Fran dreams. I’ve got voices telling me lies and I’m lost in watching her dance in her underwear – she wears the sexiest underwear. She always did…black and lacy and sexy. I wanted to pull it off with my teeth. She tasted like heaven. 

_Does she still?_

No…more like poptarts. 

_Do you like poptarts, then?_

Not as much as I love Emily. 

_Loved…_

Yeah, sorry, loved. 

_It's like a bad movie_

_She is lookin' through me_

_If you were me, then you'd be_

_Screamin', someone shoot me_

_As I fail miserably_

_Tryin' to get the girl all the bad guys want_

 

_She's the girl all the bad guys want_

 


	18. Party Hard

****

_You,_

_You work all night,_

_And when you're workin' you feel alright._

_And when,_

_When things stop feelin' alright,_

_Alright!,_

_Then everything is alright._  

 

The party was amazing. It was simply amazing. Gerard invited all our friends from local bands and they brought their friends, and lots of drinks. The air was thick with humid pot smoke and laced with the smell of alcohol, sweat and vomit. There were people everywhere – crammed in at every opportunity. Girls dressed in short skirts and high heels, long eyelashes melting as they tried to seduce boys so drunk they couldn’t stand up without spitting out bile. The place was littered with crumpled beer cans, plastic cups shredded under boots, sticky vodka stains and pizza smooshed into the floor under the stomping grind of dancers. 

We slipped inside, Emily’s eyebrows going into orbit. She’d been to way too many parties to remember – she’d told me loads of stories, but this was on a different level. This wasn’t so much a party as a breeding ground. Gerard’s house was very often frequented by large sums of loud, rowdy, drunken people whom I never found out the names of, but knew the intimate details of their sex lives and musical tastes by what they yelled in my ear over the pounding music. Emily’s parties were large groups of friends who knew each other well, less focused around drinking and drugs than having a good time by causing havoc and doing stupid things. I could tell from the look in her eye she planned to turn tonight into her kind of evening. 

 

_Coz,_

_We will never listen to your rules,_

_No!_

_We will never do as others do,_

_No!_

_know what we want, and we get it from you_

_do what we like and we like what we do!_

 

I kept ahold of her hand and pulled her through the throngs of people, waving awkwardly to people I knew or recognised. First we headed for the kitchen and, both of us knowing the drill, stole as many drinks as we could safely hold and discreet another ourselves – because whenever you go back, the drinks are gone. Tis party law – never go back. 

Chugging down on beer in plastic cups, piped from a keg, we slipped out of the boiling house and breathed in cool, fresh air. Only it wasn’t, since we’d stumbled into a circle of stoner kids and the air was thick with the smell of pot. Emily grinned and pulled me away. 

“This is some party!” she giggled, gulping down beer and sitting down on an abandoned bench in the garden, near the circle of stoners but far enough so they couldn’t hear. 

“Yeah…they’re all insane,” I smirked, sitting near her and pulling one her legs over my lap, running my hand up her thigh. 

“Man, you look hot tonight,” I told her, leaning in for a beer tasting kiss. 

“I know – it’s boiling in there,” she laughed. “Where’re the guys?” she asked, chugging more beer so she could move onto an alcopop. I shrugged and pulled her closer, nestling my face into her neck, biting gently.  

“No idea, and I don’t care because you smell fantastic,” I growled. 

“God, you’re horny! When was the last time you got laid?” she giggled, pushing me away. I blushed and looked down. “Oops,” she said, seeing my face. Her hands touched me. 

 

_So,_

_Lets get a Party goin',_

_Let's get a party goin'!_

_Now its time to Party and we'll Party Hard._

_Party Hard!_  

 

“Sorry! That was dumb! Sorry!” she moaned. I looked back up, smirking even though I felt stung. 

“Chill – it’s not that big a deal,” I shrugged noncommittally. Emily looked unconvinced. “No, seriously, cos I’ve been waiting for the right girl,” she gave me a look. “Ok, I’ve been too locked up to get my cock out too much, but I don’t care,” I chuckled. “I’ve got an excuse, unlike Ray and Mikey!” I chuckled, and Emily joined in, downing more beer. 

“Well, that’s good then, because you get me drunk enough, I might take you out for a little playtime,” she whispered in my ear, shuffling closer, moving onto my lap and pushing gently at my crotch. The breath caught in my throat. 

“You need to be drunk to do that?” I asked. 

“Nope, but it makes me more adventurous!” she laughed, kissing me so I forgot the last few minutes and just kissed her. 

Our cliché was ruined when someone ran full pelt into us, knocking us back over the stone bench and into the bushes. 

“LOVEBIRDS!”

I recognised the voice of the twit wriggling on top of me and Emily. 

“Bob! Off!” I ordered. 

“I’m not your puppy!! Hey, is he-“

“We left him at home, get off,” I grumbled, wriggling out from under him and jumping up. Emily was laughing too hard to do anything remotely similar to getting up. Bob rolled off her and grinned, winking at me from next to her. 

 

_Lets get a Party goin',_

_Let's get a party goin!_

_When its time to Party,_

_We will always Party Hard!_

_Party Hard_

 

“That’s what all the ladies say!” he giggled. I rolled my eyes and reached down to grab my girl, pulling her up. She laughed so more, her mouth open wide and her entire body moving with the force of her laughter – and she wasn’t even properly drunk yet! I shut her up with my lips on hers, thrusting my tongue in her mouth and feeling her wrap her arms around my neck, pulling me into her for a full blown Hollywood kiss. 

Bob got bored of us and wandered off, leaving me and Emily to follow him back into the party, still drinking no holds bar. There were quite a few people crammed onto the dance floor – somewhere I knew Emily would drag me later, and even more around the edges of the room, on the couches and the floor. People smoking, drinking, laughing, talking, singing along, kissing. We followed Bob upstairs to Gerard’s room where Ray and Mikey and some of the other guys were having an Unreal Tournament competition, some girls joining in the cheering. I recognised a few of them as serious gamers and long time friends, but I didn’t bother talking to them, not with Emily next to me. She was watching the screen, her eyes wide. I had a feeling, from the twitch of her fingers she could play it. 

Then I got cannonballed by Gerard. 

“FRANKIE! EMILY!” he squealed, hugging us on the floor. Emily was laughing again and I opened my eyes, seeing Sophia grin stupidly from the door, drunk and pointing at Gerard who was sitting on my chest. His hair was pulled back into pigtails, and Sophia had put bright pink make up on him, as well as jammed bracelets and a tiara on his head. He even had a bright pink tutu on. 

 

_Alright!_

_You,_

_You fight that fight._

_And when you're fightin' you feel alright._

_But when,_

_But when!_

_When things start feeling alright,_

_Alright!_

_Then Everything is alright._

 

“LOOKIT ME! Look at me with my pretty bracelet and tiara, I'm a fuckin' princess!” he yelled, throwing himself at Mikey, who was so close to beating Ray it wasn’t funny

“Fuck you!” yelled Mikey, defeated.

“Fuck yourself!” 

“Go fuck a cow!” 

“Go fuck a toaster and turn it on!” 

“Go fuck your mom!” 

“She's your mom too, dumbass!”

Emily and I were laughing so hard we couldn’t get off the floor, and Sophia had slowly slid down the wall, gripping her stomach and laughing as Mikey and Gerard engaged in a worldwide scale size poking match.

“You are such a penguin fucker, Uncle Jiggy!” squealed Mikey as Gerard sat down on him and grinned. Some sort of demonic calm came over Gerard and his eyes widened and his clasped his hands and said in a tiny innocent voice:

"One by one, penguins are stealing my sanity..."

As you can imagine, sore stomach muscles ensued.

The party pretty much turned into a bit of a blur, with me and Emily drinking more and more and then Sophia convincing Emily to join her on the table to dance, and Gerard and me enjoyed it. A lot. But then the two girls dragged us upstairs and forced me to dress up as a fucking cowboy and I let them colour my face in with purple eye shadow as Gerard danced on the bed to Gay Bar by Electric 6, and then of course we had to drag half of our closest friends out onto the street to form a break dancing party and Emily and I got ‘lost’ in a bush and eventually got dragged out by Mikey who’d found a camera and continued to terrorise us with the bright flash. Sophia and Emily then ran off and came back with 10 bags of cheap arse flour and a hose. 

 

_Cause'_

_We will never listen your rules,_

_No!_

_We will never do as others do,_

_No!_

_We know what we want, and we get it from you_

_We!_

_We do what we like and we like what we do!_

 

Hours later we were back in the house, drinking shots and smoking pot, Sophia and Em making out for everyone’s entertainment, but then Gerard got a bit steamed and took Sophia off to the bathroom to release some of his drunken frustration, and Emily and I found our way to the stairwell, hidden in the dark as we heavily made out. 

“Ugh, Frank?” groaned Em as I bit down on her neck, my hand resting on her warm thigh. I moaned in response. “We gotta get back to the Institute – you won’t last much longer,” she whispered in my ear before biting the cartilage lightly. 

I sighed and leaning back, letting Em’s fingers trace my hair behind my ear. 

“How much time roughly do I have?” I was too drunk to remember exactly what time it was or anything, but Em had it all written down on her arm. 

“Bout an hour…”

“It only takes twenty minutes to get back,” I pointed out woozily, dipping back in to kiss her neck. She giggled. 

“I wanna have some fun when we get back,” she whispered, her hand trailing down my back and squeezing my arse gently, her eyes glinting wickedly in the light. My eyebrows raised slowly. 

“Oh…um, ok,” I grinned, pushing myself up off her and stumbling down the stairs, pulling on her arm. She came after me, laughing and waving goodbye to people she’d met throughout the evening. I paused at the door and found a pen, finding time to scribble a barely legible goodbye and thanks note to Gerard, telling him I’d call him the next day to bug his hangover. 

 

_Lets get a Party goin',_

_Let's get a party goin'!_

_Now its time to Party and we'll Party Hard._

_Party Hard!_

_Lets get a Party goin',_

_Let's get a party goin'!_

_When its time to Party,_

_We will always Party Hard!_

_Party Hard_

 

Then me and Em were out of there, back on the street and hand in hand. Eyes linked in a soppy daydream, lost inside each other’s eyes. I kept hearing her singing but I never heard what, never figured out the words. 

If I had known I was having an attack, I probably would’ve taken Em back to her room then locked myself in mine. Would’ve been smart. But I didn’t know, I didn’t figure it out until Emily was sitting on top of me on my bed, leaning down to kiss me, letting me attack that corset with my clumsy fingers, trace the fishnet up her back. As my fingertips touched the clasp of her bra, as my tongue explored around her mouth, my mind clicked back through the fog of pot and alcohol. 

Frank, wake up, you’re freaking out. 

Of course, Emily didn’t know that. She kept moving, kept kissing, but she had to stop when I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her off, babbling and sweating, holding my head and moving away from her. I stopped seeing her properly, the blurry line around her, a mass of black and blue and skin. She touched me and I stuck out, flesh hitting flesh and I screamed that she wasn’t real, she was fake, she didn’t want me. 

And then I hit the floor. 

_You didn’t actually hit the floor, you know_

I thought I did, which it what’s important. It took me hours to come around, maybe days. Emily was gone, she’d left me on the floor. There was a spot of blood on the tiles – I thought it was mine. But it was hers. I’d smashed her lip with my knuckles, made her bleed. 

_How did she react?_

When I finally went to see her, she was pissed but got over it, fast. She kissed me and we were ok again. 

_Really?_

You know how the story ends – you tell me. 

 

_Lets get a Party goin',_

_Let's get a party goin'!_

_Now its time to Party and we'll Party Hard._

_Party Hard!_

_Lets get a Party goin',_

_Let's get a party goin'!_

_When its time to Party,_

_We will always Party Hard!_

_Party Hard!_


	19. Nobodies

_Today I am dirty_

_I want to be pretty_

_Tomorrow I'll know that I'm just dirt_

 

Weeks passed, and Emily and I soon moved into a regular pattern. She got over my episode, I got over hers. She went to psychological tests, medical examinations, and soon her fear of needles was gone. Life seemed simple – when I woke up, I went to find her, we’d walk 6655321, see Malcolm and then go out, usually just to walk and talk and laugh and kiss in the sunlight. Often with the guys in tow, she and Gerard had become particularly close. 

I never seemed to lose energy when I was with her, she kept me going. Her laugh and her crazy opinions and her insanity. She was so colourful and full of life all the time during the day that I felt drawn to her. And in the evenings she’d come to mine and we’d ‘watch movies’. We felt like the typical teenage couple – obsessed with each other, full of lust and everything was sparkling new. 

At one point, my Mom sent an invitation to her wedding and it was Emily who convinced me to go. I went, with Em, but I resented my mom so much I didn’t dress smartly. Em and I turned up with ripped out knees in our clothes, studs and logos and huge army boots – no one talked to us except my mom, who thanked me for coming, kissed both our cheeks and breezed off in her Prozac world of roses and cake. 

Feeling deviant, we stole the top layer of the cake and went to the park opposite to stuff our faces with it, then had a huge cake frosting fight, which resulted in me tackling Emily into a river. 

 

_Today I am dirty_

_I want to be pretty_

_Tomorrow I'll know that I'm just dirt_

 

Life seemed simple, incredibly simple. We both had our shit to deal with – dates with doctors and head doctors and all sorts of stuff like that, but the time we spent around those drowned them out. 

Tuesday morning: my weekly dance with Dr Stevens, the doctor who sat me down and talked to me for no reason. I’d learned how to get out of here fast, by playing along. 

“Good morning Frank, how did you sleep?” she asks me. Dr Stevens used to make me nervous. Not only because she’s terrifying, but because she’s a chick. When you’re going through a confusing stage of puberty stuck up in a place where they record you in the bathroom and watch you in the bedroom, any female presence becomes intimidating. But Dr Stevens was the worst kind of woman to have around anywhere. She was a tall, very thin woman, with long legs and arms and a narrow bony face structure. She always wore little smart suits, navy blue, deep violet, black, grey. Tan coloured pantyhose that seemed to get greyer every year, clumpy catholic girl shoes. A long rubber white coat hung on a peg in the corner – a skin she discarded to get closer to me as a human and learn everything about me. She looked like a cross between a fish and a horse, her lips always semi pursed and her huge eyes amplified by glasses that perched on the bridge of her nose. Her hair was always tied back in a tight bun spiked with a different set of hairpins every time I saw her. Today they were two small ladybugs perched on the end of blood red sticks thrust through her coil of mousy brown hair. I gulped. 

 

_We are the nobodies_

_We wanna be somebodies_

_When we're dead_

_They'll know just who we are_

 

Her voice isn’t warm, inviting, or curious. A mere formality, checking my sleeping pattern. Every doctor asks me whenever I draw near. I nod, twiddling my thumbs. 

“Good…really good. Actually, I’ve been a lot less tired recently,” I smile weakly, glancing up at her mud coloured eyes then back at the floor. The room we sat in was designed to delight a kid younger than me – bright white walls covered in hand drawn pictures of unicorns and houses in rainbow colours by the little kids who stayed here. A toy corner, a book corner, colour pencils and paper on the table in between us. And it smelt odd, like paint and chemicals. Like the rest of this place. 

“Did you see Emily last night?” asked Dr Stevens, her eyes flickering to the paper in front of her then back to me like a hawk. I nod. 

“Yeah, she was with me until about 9, that’s when I got tired,” I shrug. I hoped Dr Stevens wouldn’t ask me what we were doing, Em sitting on top of me, play acting out soap operas voices and expressions, making me laugh as she pouted and twisted her hair rockstar style, turning me on in only her bra and skirt and necklaces, bare skin touching mine. Hands running over her thighs pushed over my stomach, pulling her down to kiss me then laughing as she tickled me. She always drove me crazy.

“Do you dream of her?” 

The question shook me for a second. She’d never asked that. 

“Um…yeah actually, I do. Quite a lot,”

 

_We are the nobodies_

_We wanna be somebodies_

_When we're dead_

_They'll know just who we are_

 

My dreams had been getting better recently. A lot better. I dreamt of Emily a lot, and my friends as well, even 6655321. I don’t remember every detail of my dreams, but they didn’t scare me or upset me or wake me up in the mornings with a cold sink of dread. Actually, I felt better all over. 

The mornings were the worse for me. I’d wake up and think morbid thoughts, how I’d kill myself, how I’d kill everyone else, how to hurt myself without them finding out, how to disappear. Now, I woke up wondering where Em was and what crazy thing she had in mind to do today. She was the cure for keeping my depression down. Of course, sometimes it still hit me. Sometimes, at night, just after she left me I’d freak out but I’d pass out before I did anything stupid. Occasionally, I’d get scared when she was with me, kissing me or running her hands down the fabrics of my jeans, exciting me. I’d get scared and push her away. But she accepted that and calmed me down as best she could, listening to me babble about death and how it’s all pointless and lies and all this stuff that made me cringe later on. In return, I looked after her madness. If she woke me up in the middle of the night, swearing there were people in her room, I’d let her stay with me. If her heart began to pound too forcefully in her chest because we were moving together too fast, I’d slow down, hold her until the pain left, but it often took hours. There were problems, but we were working around them. 

“No more nightmares?”

 

_Yesterday I was dirty_

_Wanted to be pretty_

_I know now that I'm forever dirt_

_  
_”Not for a long time,” I shrugged, smirking to myself.

“What were they like?”

“Bad…I’d dream I was in a big white bed, or a table, strapped down and caught….I felt like I couldn’t breathe, I was cold and alone, and everything was bright and cold and it hurt so much…”

Note. 

“Tell me about your mother’s wedding,” 

I shook my head – I really didn’t want to get into that. 

“Isn’t worth talking about. I didn’t want to go, but Em made me. We stayed, we ate, we left, case closed,”

I left out the mindless deviancy. They kept files of that sort of stuff on me. 

“Why didn’t you want to go?”

I sighed deeply. “I have issues with my mom, I know it and so do you, but they’re normal teenage feelings of abandonment and bitterness. Sure, she upsets me, but it isn’t worth talking about,” I said firmly. Dr Stevens made a series of notes, her pencil scratching away like a talon at the paper. 

“If you’re sure. Tell me about Emily,”

I laughed. “Like what?”

“How does she make you feel?”

 

_Some children died the other day_

_We fed machines and then we prayed_

_Puked up and down in morbid faith_

_You should have seen the ratings that day_

 

Hmmm…interesting question. How does she make me feel? Horny. Like grinning. Like laughing. Like running around on the beach naked, dancing in the waves. Like eating ice cream at 3 in the morning, watching horror flicks. Like falling over into a rainbow. Like life isn’t hard any more, like I don’t need to be afraid.

“Happy,”

“What do you mean by happy?”

“Jeesh, isn’t it obvious? She makes me happy. She makes me smile and laugh and she’s fun and she’s different and she’s scary and sexy and insane and sweet and I think I love her,”

“Love?”

“You didn’t mishear me,”

“No, what I meant was, is love what you think you feel?”

“I don’t know, but neither does any teenager, or adult. No one really knows what love is. Romantic comedies suck, and love songs are all too vague, love should be defined by the person saying they’re in it,”

“So how would you define it?”

“Well…love should be something like trust and friendship and desire but so much more complete. Like, when you’re in love, you don’t even think to question it, it’s just a fact. You don’t wonder if you’ll die for them and them for you, you just know you will – like Romeo and Juliet. The old poems said it better,”

“Would you die for Emily?”  
”Yes,”

 

_We are the nobodies_

_We wanna be somebodies_

_When we're dead_

_They'll know just who we are_

 

I don’t miss a beat, the answer is straight out of my mouth like a bullet. I’d die for her any day. Of course, I don’t know what circumstances I’d had to be in to die for her, but I’d do it. 

“Do you still think about death a lot?”

“Um…yeah, but not as much, and not the same way,”

“What do you mean?”

“I used to welcome the idea of death – I wanted to get the hell out of here, but now I don’t want it to come. It’s like a friend you realise is just gonna steal your stuff if you let inside your house,”

She makes more notes, covering the white paper with angry pencil markings, scratched in harshly. 

“Does Emily know you love her?”

I shrugged. “I don’t hide how I feel about her, I think she knows how attached I am to her…I know she’s attached to me too,”

“You trust her then?”

 

_Yesterday I was dirty_

_Wanted to be pretty_

_I know now that I'm forever dirt_

 

“Completely,”

“More than me?”

“Yeah, I don’t know you at all,”

“And you know her?”

“Yeah, she’s an open book to me. She tells me everything,”

There was another uncomfortable silence as Dr Stevens wrote some more notes down, then set her book to the side, forcing a smile. This is the part that comes straight out of Donnie Darko or The Butterfly Effect. She does this kinda hypnosis shit on me, getting me to close my eyes and breathe deeply, then open them and fix my eyes on this spinning disc. I don’t remember exactly what she does, but after a while I kinda step out of myself and she talks to me. 

I don’t remember what she asks me, what I tell her back. I think she asks me about my father, my mom and my new step dad, but after a while I get too abusive and angry for her to continue. She switches to my friends outside of school and asks about Gerard – a name she reads wrong off her paper. 

I don’t know what I said, but it was so dark, so sprawling and twisted, the questions stop and I fade in darkness until I hear her voice again, calling me back. I don’t quite get there though, answering her questions on one level. But on although…there was another voice. Male.

 

_We are the nobodies_

_We wanna be somebodies_

_When we're dead_

_They'll know just who we are_

 

_“Frank?”_

“A-Am I dead?”

_“No, Frank, you’re not, you’re very alive. Can you open your eyes?”_

“My…my eyes?”

_“You might be slipping back again – we expected this. Don’t fight it,”_

The voice fades away from my ears, but I can still hear it – giving encouragement, saying this was the step towards recovery, how my replies meant I was still there – of course I was, I was lying on a stiff hospital bed. Wait no, a couch. A couch in Dr Steven’s room. Her voice shifted back through and I snapped awake, my eyes looking upwards. The ceiling seems darker, everything’s darker. Before, seconds or minute before, maybe even hours, it had been brighter, my eyelids had seemed red over my closed eyes. Where had the light come from?

“Frank, do you remember what we talked about?” asked Dr Stevens, capturing my attention. Her book was now covered in notes, observations. I shook my head. Gasps of half remembered words swarm at me in between every hammered heartbeat in my ears. Dim memories. 

“Ok then, good, excellent. I’ll see you next week…goodbye,”

 

_We are the nobodies_

_Wanna be somebodies_

 

“Goodbye,” I say quickly and leave her room faster than usual. I leaned heavily against the door, biting my lip and closing my eyes. The male voice, during my mini black out – where had it come from? All I know is he sounded louder and more real than any other voice penetrating my head.

I shook it loose and went to find my girl. 

 

_We are the nobodies_

_We wanna be somebodies_

_When we're dead_

_They'll know just who we are_

 


	20. The Shooting Star That Destroyed Us All

_A star up in the sky_

_A Poem to the dead_

_Let this mistake_

_Bring a vivid crystal to her eyes_

_So drain out my lungs_

_Before the fluid brings a choke_

_I cannot inhale the sparkle of your voice_

 

Emily and I were lying on the roof of the Institute, sunbathing in the blinding summer light. I’d stripped down to my boxers, earning much humour from Em as she ripped the piss out of my pale flesh. She had managed to tan a bit in the past week or so, taking advantage of the sun and her bikini to lounge on the roof, often with me.

Eyes closed, bodies relaxed on the warm white tiles, we were in a half doze, Emily’s little MP3 beeping to remind us to turn over every so often. I was drained, and Em was bored. 

I felt her sit up, her shadow falling across me. Then warm legs touched mine as she pushed her body on top of mine, her warm thighs rubbing against mine, her hands playing with the light hairs on my stomach.  

She says something cute and sweet, she’s bored, she wants me to entertain her. I open my eyes, watching her straddle me with the cheekiest grin ever. 

My voice rumbles out of the back of my throat, making my Adam’s apple tickle as I tell her to entertain herself. She shrugs, and says ok. 

Her lips attach themselves to my neck, nudging my head to the side as violent blue hair brushes across my hair in a soft smelling wave. I giggle as she wriggles down to lie on top of me, our warm bodies rubbing together. My hands travel over her hips, holding her on top of me, gently touching her butt. She giggles, moving up to bite my earlobe, whispering so many dirty little things to me I’m stunned and can’t say a word back. 

Where she learnt such secrets, that kind of language, is beyond me. 

 

_A star up in the sky_

_A poem to the dead_

_Let this mistake_

_Bring a vivid crystal to her eyes_

 

She tells me she wants me, moving to kiss my lips gently, propping herself up a bit to look into my eyes and smile. She looks happy, and I felt happy. Happy. It’s like being on helium, everything’s floating. I smile and pull her back down to meet my kiss, biting her lips gently, running my tongue over hers. She’s so warm and soft and nice to touch, I just can’t keep my hands from running over her shoulders, her back, the dip of her waist and over her hips, hosting her up softly as my hips twitch under her weight. 

I feel her fingers trace across my chest, touching my nipples gently, making me moan. She smiles against my skin, she tells me she likes me moaning, she wants me to moan for her. Her voice, it’s so low and dirty, she’s seducing me, making me feel cheap and dirty and sweaty. I moan again – I love this feeling she’s giving me. 

My hands slide down her body, pulling her down to touch me again, kissing her to stop my filthy moans reaching her, my tongue playing with hers. My hands rest on her arse, squeezing it gently as she moves against me, pushing a rhythm into my hips. She’s matching the beats of my heart, the pants of my breathing. 

She’s touching me again, body moved above me, hands dipping into my secret warmth, taking me in two hands. I moan again, loudly and messily. She squeezes and my eyes dance with stars. 

 

_So drain out my lungs_

_Before the fluid brings a choke_

_I cannot inhale the sparkle of your voice_

 

I lose myself in her grasp before she even moves her hands. 

She giggled at me, rubbing her hands over the mess in my shorts, removing a hand. I open my eyelids, focus slowly on her. A dirty girl licking dirty juice from her dirty fingers, glinting eyes and filthy smiles. 

She leans down again, kisses me. I taste myself and laugh, grabbing her curvy body and rolling her over, kissing her like everything depends on it. Her breasts are soft under my palms, her hips curved and rhythmic under mine. She smells like rainbows and strawberries. 

She moans my name as I bite her lips, kiss her neck. I colour in her lines and she begs in the same dirty voice, a tiny innocent girl angel pleading for the dirtiest games to be played on her body. She wants me to touch her, fill her, taste her, use her, abuse her. 

I’m rough. I get hard again, determined to lose my top again. She’s wriggling and squirming, pushing her body up into mine and sweating under me. Moaning, groaning, she sounds like a first class porno track. 

Her lips against my ear, hands in my hair, whispering my name, the nasty little desires in her polluted head. 

Touch me harder, touch me deeper, push me deeper. 

I moan her name, finding her lips again. I pull back and ask if she’s entertained now. She laughs – I love her laugh, I love her giggles, I love her chuckles – and wraps her arms around me, bikini strings loose and lost in her electric blue hair. 

I’m more than entertained baby. Winking, what a flirt. 

Want some more?

 

_Let me walk on high wire of rusty nails_

_While barefoot shedding the flesh of our existence_

 

_I don't want anybody to fall_

 

She doesn’t say a word, she just sits up, the bikini falls away and she is bare in front of me. I can’t keep eye contact. She grins and nibbles my ear. Gimme gimme gimme you crazy motherfucker. 

She’s all over me like a spray on tan, the stink of sweat and sex and cum and the flash of eyes and smiles and blue hair and silver nail polish and black marker lyrics graced over skin and guitar burns and muscles over skin and lips over lips and hair in eyes and giggles in the sun and ruined eye make up and purple marks on my chest and bites on my neck and raspberries on her stomach, nibbles on my tattoos and kisses on her piercings and my tongue in her mouth. 

She’s above me, riding me like a time bomb ready to blow, under me and driving me crazy with her moans. On my lap, wrapped in my arms and kissing like a lunatic on Prozac. On my back, flat out as she sucks and kisses and licks and bites and giggles. Naked skin in the sun, warm and hot and dizzying. She tastes like punk rock meets heaven. Sick and twisted, dirty and down low – she’s like my wildest dream come true in flesh. Hands everywhere, lips everywhere else. 

 

_A star up in the sky_

_A poem to the dead_

_Let this mistake_

_Bring a vivid crystal to her eyes_

_So drain out my lungs_

_Before the fluid brings a choke_

_I cannot inhale the sparkle of your voice_

 

My muscles shake, my breathe pants, I open to see blue and a smile, wicked eyes, flashing silver piercings, a gentle kiss. 

Her heart beats gently - she can stand it for me. 

I win. 

I chuckle, nod, pull her down to lie with me in the fog over the roof tiles. Hold her close as the heat fades, the sweat dried. 

Yeah, you do…kiss me. 

She does, and smiles, eyes gazing into mine. I smile and it comes from inside. 

I think I love you. I’m honest and she gives me a look – like are you crazy? I grin and lean down to kiss her. 

Yeah, I am. 

 

_Your eyes_

_They shine_

_Your eyes_

 

_But today_

_Will you remember me ?_

_I cannot inhale the sparkle of your voice_

 


	21. Kiwi

_You’re such a flirt, I know you hurt_

_And so do I, I empathize_

_I see you out, you never cared_

_A conversation that we never shared_

 

Lying on my back, once again naked to the waist. I seem to end up this most days...and nights...and mornings. Usually it's not because I'm having sex with Em or lazing around with her having sexy fun - she just loves my chest and my shoulders and my tattoos and it's been too hot recently to bother wearing too much clothing. I haven't left the Institute much lately...Em and I spend all our time together, entwined, kissing, laughing, smiling, together. 

But she's not with me right now. As far as I know, she's in her room, trying to decide which picture to put on her wall among the millions and millions of other band pictures: The Misfits or Sex Pistols...so little space left. Of course she'll be wearing her lacy black panties and bra - maybe some stripy tights, a cute little jacket, a pink hair band and neon pink nail varnish...blue hair jigging as she sings along to the music. 

Oh yeah - good thoughts. 

The reason I'm not with her. Well, I'm laid on a cold, metal table with only a little sheet under me, a thin blanket over me. I'm fucking freezing. There are monitors hooked up to me - beeping in time with the lusty beats of my heart. There's a drip in my hand, a needle nestled between the withered cool blue walls of my veins. A bag suspended over my head, liquid trickling down a curving tube, seeping into my tired, worn body. I can feel the cool liquid spreading down my fingers. I wriggle them and the needle twinges inside my hand. I don’t like the sensation, so I stop and look away. 

 

_But it’s so strange, it’s something new_

_Amazing feelings that I have for you_

_I close my eyes when I’m alone_

_Wonder what it’d be like to make you moan_

 

My jeans are ripped at the knee – grass stains everywhere. Too much loving in the gardens, too much falling over with Emily in my arms. My chest is tanned, deeply tanned, and my body moves like I’ve never seen it. Puppy fat gloried and kissed lovingly by a girl packing her own extra pounds. We’ve both got a bit more to love – the price for pill soaked sanity – and we love it. My arms twitch to hold her curvy body, lips pound to kiss her soft swells of skin and warmth. She radiates happiness. 

“Frank, are you listening?”

I look up at who’s speaking and smile foolishly – it’s only now I realise how doped up I am. So that’s what the needle was dripping. 

“Hello,”

The doctor smiles, shaking his head. I sound thick and heavy.

“I guess that’s a no…how do you feel?”

I nod, I smile, I grin stupidly. 

“Good. My hand tingles and my head feels like floaty and high, like I’m in the clouds. Where’s Emily?”

The doctor looks a bit confused at my words, I’m speaking slowly. 

“You’re very doped up, that’s why you feel so…floaty. What can you remember?” he asks me. I blink slowly, this room is really bright, very very bright. I don’t think I like it. 

“Um…the sunset, with Em, going downstairs, and then…I hit my head or something, I tripped and hit…” the thoughts are there, little bits of memory I’m trying to stitch together with letters to make words. The doctor looks confused, pencil dances over paper. 

“Do you know how long you’ve been here?” he asks. I shake my head and watch as my hair brushes across my eyes. It’s dirty, greasy, so much longer than I remember. Heh. 

“Where do you think you are?”

“Um…the Institute,” I say, watching my muscles flex under my skin slowly. He smiles a bit.

 

_I wanna give you something better_

_Than anything you’ve ever had_

_A stronger and a faster lover_

_The world, it disappears so fast_

 

“Well, that’s something,”

He makes a note, and walks a bit closer. He’s blurry around the edges. 

“You’re slipping again- relax, that’s ok…maybe next time you’ll be –“

“Frank, wake up you big idiot,”

My eyes open and I smile straight away. Emily’s eyes are the first thing I see, they’re huge and dark blue and surrounded by deep purple – she’s beautiful. And she’s trying to wriggled free from under me. I must’ve fallen asleep on top of her again. I can feel she’s barely clothed, and I’m wearing nothing. My groin throbs, my skin stinks of sweat and sex but I’m smiling. I forget my dream. 

There’s no one in the world like Emily. 

She laughs again, crazy and amazing. I roll off her and she sits up, swinging her hair back and smirking at me. 

“You know…I’ve heard those complaints that guy fall asleep right after sex, but I think this is the first time it’s ever happened before it,” she sighed, shaking her head at me. “Obviously, it’s not me, look at me, I’m a walking sexpot, so it’s all your fault you blobby sponge,” she teased me, poking my tummy and slapping my hands snaking towards her hips, trying to pull her back on top of me. 

“Shut up, Em, gimme some lurrrve,” I winked. She rolled her eyes. 

 

_Sweet kiwi_

_Your juices dripping down my chin_

_So please, let me_

_Don’t stop it before it begins_

 

“You may think your winks are sexy, but you look like you’ve got a nervous twitch,” she giggled, slipping off the bed and pulling one of my big t shirt over her bare breasts. It reaches her thighs – and somehow makes her look even sexier. 

“Em, come back, please?” I asked softly, wanting her back. I was getting hard again, just watching her walk around her room. She ignored me, fishing around in her CD box. She really had to unpack at some point. She pulled out a CD and ignored me moaning for her, growing harder by the second as I watched her sexy legs pad around. Who cares if she was pretty solid? I loved her legs…

She leaned down over the bed, pushing the CD into the slot in the wall, and I touched her hips, the shirt hanging down so I could run my fingers up her body, finding her breasts and her hardening nipples. She looked down at me, smirking. 

“Can I help you?”

I moaned, licking my lips. “I seem to be having problems with my zipper…” I said, smiling wickedly. Her eyebrow raised. 

“You don’t have a zipper on,” she pointed out, poking the soft trail of hair under my belly button. I grinned. 

 

_So give it up, and don’t pretend_

_And spread your arms and legs across the bed_

_And when you shake, you won’t regret_

_The things I whisper in your ear_

 

“That’s one solved then…got a few more though,” I pouted. She smiled and gave me a ‘clueless’ look. 

“Really? I don’t see any,” she said innocently, looking at my swollen member. That little tease. I could feel her fingers digging into my leg, tickling my inner thigh. I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. In the months and months I’d been with Em, it’d been a blur of sex and laughter and smiles and pleasure. I hadn’t been depressed in ages, I only felt that way when Emily slept away from me under medication. Those nights seemed to stretch to eternity and back, the freezing cold bed seemed to drip away into marble bones of tombs and headstones. I couldn’t bear it. But with her, it was just sunlight. I wasn’t scared of anything. But it always ended. There had been so many occasions when she’d woken up beside me, screaming, clutching her chest. It came randomly, or sometimes in the middle of sex, she’d grab her chest and break down. At night, I’d wake to find her shaking, terrified of something and I’d hold her unless she hurt herself. She’d bitten her tongue so many times, ripped her tongue stud in her frights. 

But those times seemed to just fade away in our sunset. 

I felt her fingers move further up my leg, a sly smile I knew would be painted on her face. I grinned slowly, my breathing becoming deeper. 

 

_I wanna give you something better_

_Than anything you’ve ever had_

_A stronger and a faster lover_

_The world, it disappears so fast_

_It disappears so fast_

 

“Hey, Frank,” her voice whispered as her hand finally reached my hard member, the tips running gently up the shaft. 

“Mmm?” 

“What’s your favourite colour?”

I laughed, what an odd question from such an odd girl. 

“I dunno…” I moaned, wriggling my shoulders, my feet pushing against the bed foot, hands digging into the twisted sheets. “Blue…” I moaned, remembering the vivid colour of her hair, and the way it felt stroking across my skin. She giggled and eased her fingers around me slowly. 

“What kind of blue?” her voice asked the black silence in my warm, cloudy head. I moaned again, bones rolling, muscles flexing under her touch. 

“Elec-c-ctric,” I groaned as she squeezed, taking my breath away. 

“And don’t you forget it, baby,” she whispered, hot breath across my lips, a tongue touching my lower lip. “Electric blue, all the way,”

I opened my eyes. 

 

_Save me from myself_

_Show me how to care_

_Get everything out_

_Dripping everywhere_

_Lipstick smeared all over your face_

_How much longer must we wait?_

_Don’t think that I can wait_

 

“You’re all mine,”  
I was looking at the male doctor. 

“Frank? How do you feel?”

“Frank? Wake up, moron,”

What the fuck is going on?

 

_Don’t stop it before it begins_

_Don’t stop it before it begins_

_Don’t stop it before it begins_

_Don’t stop it before it begins_

 

 


	22. Disassociative

_I can tell you what they say in space_

_That our earth is too grey_

_But when the spirit is so digital_

_The body acts this way_

 

“I think I’m freaking out…” 

Sitting on the beach at 6 in the evening. The sun was dipping close to the horizon, but not enough to strike a match to the vivid flame coloured hues of the sky. It wasn’t time to leave yet. I looked up from my scuffed DCs and looked out across the wide expanse of water. It was more naïve moments, I liked to think it never ended – that the beach was an island. That I was truly alone. 

“What kind of freaking out?”

The voice that kept me grounded in that moment was one I would one day grow to trust even more than I trusted myself. I blinked slowly, the reality of his voice breaking through finally. 

“I don’t know…just cracking up, in here,” my fingertips grazed the sides of my temples and instantly jerked away – my head feels like it’s on fire. I hear a sympathetic noise. 

“You’re gonna have to tell me more if I’m gonna to understand you, Frankie,”

Frankie…not Frank, not Iero, not whatever crazy nickname my girlfriend decides to call me everytime I see her, but Frankie. 

 

_That world was killing me_

_That world was killing me_

_Disassociative_

 

It’s what Ger calls me and it’s the only name I feel truly comfortable with. 

“I feel…I don’t feel anything. That’s part of it. It’s like I’m hollowing out – like everything isn’t real. I don’t register everything the same way I remember registering it,” I tried, staring at my fingers netted together. Gerard waited. 

“I feel pain, pleasure, hot, cold, all that stuff – but it’s all pre-recorded in my head. I react the way I think I should react…it’s like everything’s a dream and I’m just watching myself go through something, feeling as if I’ve done it before but having no clue what comes next until it hits me…”

“Maybe…maybe that’s part of the depression thing,” mumbled Gerard. I know that when he mumbles, he’s worried what he’s gonna say will upset me, but he knows I want to hear it. I don’t ask him to speak up, I just keep my teeth closed and listen to him explain himself in short, fumbling sentences of someone trying not to tread on eggshells. 

“Because you’ve been so…happy with Em lately, you know? She’s…she’s made you happy and you’re had everything…so good. Maybe it’s like another way you’re still suffering from it. Cept differently. You’re suppressing it or something, and it’s just…I dunno, a different kind of depression,” he suggested, talking about Em softly. I nod. 

“Maybe…maybe, I dunno,”

 

_The nervous system's down_

_The nervous system's down I know_

_The nervous system's down_

_The nervous system's down I know_

 

I look out again. Maybe the world around me isn’t real. Maybe I’m not real. Maybe this image in front of me – this beautiful image I’ve seen everything for the past two years, is only there because I want it to be. Like I saw it in my head, in a dream, or saw a painting in a book and now this is what I see every time I look for it – a secure, effortlessly beautiful, untouchable centre. I can’t remember a day when I haven’t looked out at the sky and marvelled at the colours. 

“Still sleeping loads?”

Gerard’s question shakes me free of my musings. I can’t answer at first, I have to think back. In essence, no. My hypersomnia hasn’t been affecting me lately. I’ve been waking up earlier, if only to see my gorgeous girl, and staying up later, messing around with Emily in many pleasurable ways, or just chilling out. I’ve been more active – she rides me at least twice a day and let I don’t tire out. She used to laugh when I blacked out after cumming in her – calling me the typical male as I passed out under her, or on top of her. Now she’s usually the one calling for a breather as I kiss my way back to her lips and beg her for another ride. 

I don’t know where all my energy’s come from…or how I’m managing it. Cept…it started when…

“Emily…” I whispered. Gerard twitched, turning his head towards me. 

 

_I can never get out of here_

_I don't want to just float in fear_

_A dead astronaut in space_

 

“Huh?”

“Em,”

“I asked about your sleeping pattern not- oh…I really didn’t need to know who you were sleeping with, foo’” he giggled. 

“No, you freak, although that’s a factor, I stopped sleeping so much when I met her…when she arrived,” I said, half to myself. 

“What do you think it is then? She’s making you happy-“ Was that a hiss of spite in his voice? “And now you’re cured?”

I shook my head quickly. “No, I can’t be. We both still have episodes, too often than I’d like…but that’s not it. I’m scared Ger,” I said honestly. 

He listened quietly as I described the incident earlier that day – the dream of the man standing over me, the overlapping of realities as Emily kissed my stomach and the doctor touched my arms. I confessed how his cold fingers felt so much more real than her tongue. As I spoke, a cold wind dragged across my body and I shivered – but I wasn’t cold. I just knew I should be. Gerard wrapped his hoodie closer around him, knees drawn up to his chest as he rested his chin on them, scuffed knees showing through ripped out knees. 

 

_Sometimes we walk like we were shot_

_Through our heads, my love_

_We write our song in space_

_Like we are already dead and gone_

 

“Frankie…I don’t know what to say. I want to tell you it’s ok, that you’re ok and you’re imagination’s over reacting, maybe because you haven’t been focussing so much on your condition or something but I can’t – because I don’t know. I think maybe you should tell someone who knows this kinda stuff about this…” he said, his furrowed dark eyes staring out across the water. I looked at him, studying the profile of his face. Was it really there? Was he actually talking to me, or was this some kind of twisted fantasy where I imagined myself being comforted that my friend thought I was going to be ok, that I was fine…but he wasn’t saying the right words. I wondered, if I reached out and touched his hair, or his fingers, what would they feel like? The way I imagined, or different? I knew his fingers would be cold, worn and rough, his fingernails scratchy and hot. His hair would be dry and greasy at the roots, brushing his cheeks gently. But if I hadn’t touched it, how did I know that? I could feel the exact feeling of it slipping through my fingers, see it in my head…but I wasn’t. This wasn’t what was happening – yet at the same time it was. 

Gerard turned to look at me now, I knew the exact shade of his eyes, the way they’d look at me, curious and confused, concerned and friendly. His arm snaked out and wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me into his warmth, every motion I knew perfectly as if we’d done this a million times, as if I studied it just for this one performance…

I just  _knew_  everything. Like when you dream and you know what’s coming… 

 

_Your world was killing me_

_Your world was killing me_

_Disassociative_

_Your world was killing me_

_Your world was killing me_

_Disassociative_

 

“What should I do? Part of me wants to ignore this…another part wants to try and face it out, beat the shit out of whatever causing this. But how can you fight something in your own mind?” I despaired. I shook my head and shut my eyes, but I could still see the picture perfect colours of the sunset, the eyes of Gerard’s eyes, the words he’d say, the thoughts I’d think, the sound of waves on sand, the feel of a breath of wind on my skin…

I couldn’t stop the salt dripping down my cheeks, ruining my make up. My lips cracked open in a clown grimace of humiliation at my tears, my face breaking down and screwing up as I cried, my body crumpling into itself like a balloon lost in a vacuum. My identity was lost in the infinite eternity of that sunset. Nothing touched me, touching reached me but the mind crushing, soul-shattering pit of agony ripping through me with every sob. 

My world was splintering around me like a crystal eggshell. My thoughts were slipping like leaves changing colours in the seasons, dropping and decaying. My tongue seemed frozen, lost in the messy sobs bleating from my dead form. Stars collided, species grew and died, time froze – everything and nothing happened in that one moment. 

Snapped back, hands across my cheeks, an angry face belonging to my oldest friend – my oldest friend? Does time matter anymore? Do I have friends? Do I even exist? – and I was back in the real world. 

Or the one I thought was real. 

 

_The nervous system's down_

_The nervous system's down I know_

 

_I can never get out of here_

_I don't want to just float in fear_


	23. You Are The Perfect Drug

 

_I've got my head, but my head is unravelling_

_Can't keep control, can't keep track of where it's travelling_

_I've got my heart, but my heart is no good_

_And you're the only one that's understood_

 

The girl was dragging me, reaching me, pulling me. Tearing me out of the shell I’d made in my room, shut off in darkness and sex, somewhere else, something cold and loud and –

“Iero, you fuckin’ wanker, stop being emo in there and get the fuck out NOW, I don’t wanna be late and the sooner you come out the sooner we can party!”

My eyes snapped out. Hold on, I swear they were open already. 

Emily was slamming her fists on the bathroom door and I looked down at the razor in my hand. It was wet with shaving foam, a tiny hint of pink from a cut stinging on my cheek. Looking up, the mirror version of me chuckled, and I felt the rumble in my throat, seconds after the reflection stopped. One half of my face was slicked with shaving foam, the other as clean as a baby. 

“Almost done, keep it down babe!” my voice replied from my lips. My eyes slid to the door where my girlfriend stood, smiling whimsically. 

“You are not almost done…unless you plan going out naked,” she laughed as steam rolled around her like curling ribbons. Her laugh punctured through it, making shapes of letters or numbers, glimpsed before the air cleared. 

“It’s a look,” my voice defended as she walked into the bathroom, dressed to kill. My body turned towards her, still dripping water from the shower I’d had minutes before. Hands touched my hips, lips pushed against my neck. My throat rumbled again with a light giggle, the scent of shaving cream noxious in the air. 

 

_I'd come along, but I don't know where you're taking me_

_I shouldn't go, but you're reaching, dragging, shaking me_

_Turn off the sun, pull the stars from the sky_

_The more I give to you, the more I die_

 

“It’s sexy…” she whispered, her tongue tracing the lobe of my ear and biting it gently, her warm breasts pushing against my chest, her demin skirt causing friction against the sensitive skin of my crotch. My throat moaned deeply – she was pushing into me, causing these traitorous emotions in me. 

“Em…we gotta go soon,” I warned as she pushed me down to sit on the edge of the bath. She smiled wickedly and popped the first button on her shirt, her cleavage suddenly on display. 

“Then again…”

She smiled wider and stepped closer, pushed her body in between my legs, kissing my lips gently. There was such an air of tenderness between us, I could practically touch it, feel it between our bodies. If I could run my fingers down the threads of love between us, I knew they’d feel like soft cobwebs, unbreakable threads which I just passed through, getting more and more tangled in this love. 

Her hand trailed down my chest gently, brushing my nipple before threading a warm line down my stomach and brushing my crotch, tickling my member, which was moving to attention at the intimacy of this situation. She giggled as she teased my hungry lips with hers, tossing her hair behind her shoulder and winking at me. 

“You sure you don’t wanna be on time?” she asked, in a low voice. I shook my head dumbly from side to side. 

 

_And I want you_

_And I want you_

_And I want you_

_And I want you_

 

“I want you,” I told her, my hands moving clumsily to her hips, pulling her closer to me, her legs thrust up in between mine, rubbing against the base of my member. My throat moaned again, a ripple in the steam.  

“I love you,” she whispered, kissing my forehead as my teeth bit down on her neck. I shivered with pleasure – she loved me, she said it, she loved me!

“I love you more,” I told her, smiling. She bent down to push her lips against mine, blue hair tickling my cheeks and her hands moving over my shoulders, brushing away water droplets. They hissed as they hit the floor. 

“Do you hear that?” I asked, breaking the sweet moment between us, crushed crystal. She looked confused. 

“Hear what?”

“That,” I said, as the scratching continued, like a fingernail skittering across a chalkboard, almost uncomfortable, grating. My jaw clenched as I continued. “Where’s it coming from?” I asked her, standing up and looking around, trying to pinpoint the origin of the noise. Emily sighed irritably. 

“I can’t hear anything, Frankie, you’re not having another episode, are you?” she asked, annoyed but concerned. I shook my head quickly. 

 

_You are the perfect drug…the perfect drug…the perfect drug_

_You are the perfect drug…the perfect drug…the perfect drug_

 

“No, no, I’m not,” I said, before meeting her eyes and grinning as she gave me a cross eyed look. I leaned forward to kiss her again, running my tongue across her lips, winding around her tonguestud. I tried to ignore the scratching, my muscles clenching in my back.

Emily giggled and pushed me away. 

“You’re still all wet,” she laughed, throwing a towel at me. “Get dressed, you fruitcake,”

“Thanks babe…I gotta wait a few minutes now,” I giggled, glancing down at Frank junior and raising my eyebrows at her, before jumping at the sound a loud beep – I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Emily gave me a crazy look, and shut the bathroom door, sticking her tongue out as it clicked her out of view. 

“You’re a lunatic,”

I know. 

So do they. 

 

_You make me hard, when I'm all soft inside_

_I see the truth, when I'm all stupid eyed_

_The arrow goes straight through my heart_

_Without you everything just falls apart_

 

Another party at Gerard’s – another wild party full of girls and guys, music, beer, dancing, pranks and vandalism – how come Gerard’s parents never got too pissed over the wreckage his monthly parties left the house in? Seriously, every single party was like a stereotypical American teenage party – everything got wrecked and everyone got pissed as hell…there had to be a catch here…I watched in amazement as yet another hot drunk girl jumped on the table and began writhe dancing to the music – everyone started cheering and chanting, clapping and whooping – it was like something out of a movie, I swear. 

My thoughts abruptly got cast aside as Emily came up behind me, kissing my neck and pulling me onto the dance floor, grinning as I tried to protest. I didn’t want to dance, I was too drunk to hold myself steady, and my body was getting heavy. She laughed, her dark eyes glinting as she pulled on my weak arms, I can’t hear her voice over the pounding, pounding, pounding music – the beeping, whirring, click click of machines to a beat. The beat kept us going. The tick tock bang of monitors keeping me alive, kicking, dancing.

I shook my head, the music was slicing through it louder than I liked, it made my head throb painfully. I felt Emily’s hands around my wrists, and hissed – her nails stung the soft skin on the inside of my wrist. I felt a cold tingle drip through my hands, and it made me cringe. 

 

_My blood, it wants to say hello to you_

_My fears, they want to get inside of you_

_My soul, it's so afraid to realize_

_How very little good is left of me_

 

“Babe?”

Her voice faded as it hit my head, rippled around it like water, barely penetrating the beeping in my head. I moaned, cupping my temples and shutting my eyes. Bright light flashed over my eyelids, but when I blinked, there was darkness with light in it. Two different kinds. 

I felt like screaming – it was a fucking trip from hell!

Then, cooling hands ran over my head, overlapping voices, air blowing over my head in the humid stale heat. I opened my eyes and jumped, a flash of white and then Emily’s face, worried, pulling me away, from the heat. 

I couldn’t hear her words, I couldn’t hear my own babbling, sweat building up on my face and body. Someone pushed into me and I jumped into Emily, twisting, freaking – the party was darker, hotter, the floor stuck to the soles of my boots. The people became demonic, faces twisting in grotesque masks. The kid who ran into me spun off in his own whirlwind of dust and bones, dragging cannabis smoke with him. 

“Frank!”

Emily was still there, pulling me, grapping me, trying to reach me. I turned back and I was so scared my body seized up, she’d been transformed into a withering frame, her clothes dripped off her arms and her fingernails glowed like matchsticks as they touched my face and hands, burning me. When she opened her mouth to talk, her teeth cracked and popped out of her mouth like cigarette butts.

 

_Take me if you want_

_Take me if you want_

_Take me if you want_

_Take me if you want_

 

Worst were its eyes. Purple streaks across its eyes, in big X’s. Eyelashes cracked and broke away like burnt sticks, dropping onto its cheeks like ash. Its iris’s spun in wild circles, springing out at me like an 80s puppet doll and backing me away in case they touched me, they wound around me in circles around my head. It kept darting forward, to kiss me with shrivelled lips, the neon pink of its lip gloss dribbling down its chin. I cried out, throwing myself away, my hand slapping it’s cheek, feeling nothing as I fell into the dance floor – it followed me, and my hands grabbed its bony shoulders, pushing it back. 

It hit the floor and just stared at me, it’s mouth open in horrific screaming. 

I reached forward, grabbed it’s dry brittle hair, like matted cobwebs and tore at it – trying to find the blue, trying to find Emily under this disguise someone had pushed upon her. I scratched at her face, her arms, shaking her, screaming for my girlfriend.

“GIVE HER BACK!”

 

_Without you…without you everything falls apart_

 

Everyone was screaming, everyone was deformed, everyone was lit up like devilish Christmas trees in hell. 

 

_Without you…it's not as much fun to pick up the pieces_

 

I screamed, my head caving in. 

 

_Without you…without you everything falls apart_

 

I turned and ran away from the madness. 

 

_Without you…it's not as much fun to pick up the pieces_

 

_Did you actually?_

 

_Without you…without you everything falls apart_

 

Oh please, it’s a circle – I always ended running into myself. 

 

_Without you…it's not as much fun to pick up the pieces_


	24. Into Oblivion

_The days I've felt alone_

_And the sea it brings me back again_

_So that I can see my wife_

_And I can see my child_

_Oh, My home it never changes_

_Same old faces, same old faces_

 

Gerard’s bathroom, the only quiet place that existed. Cool tiles pressed against my forehead, kneeling towards the empty wall. Hands spread against the cool wall, praying to a blank God. 

The wall was my mind then, the silent thoughts drifting on the tiles like Magic Marker and wiping away like an angry fist. Disconnected, misunderstood, fragments of sentences. Anger and confusion splayed across the white, impossibly huge wall as I held my face against it, sucking in the cold and feeling my heart hammer in my chest. 

The door opened and shut. Clicks and beeps drowned out the footsteps walking over to me. I didn’t open my eyes – I couldn’t bear to see the monster baring down on me, the devil at the gate. 

No one spoke, not a word. Only a swift, brutal kick to my stomach which threw me to the side and cracked my head on the wall. The bright light of the bathroom tinged blue, flashing with a sterile stench and a feeling of scratching bed sheets. Then I coughed up blood and felt it on my chin, tasted it on my lip as the red goo formed a splatter on the tiled floor. 

 

_I stared into oblivion_

_And found my home_

_I stared into oblivion_

_Into oblivion_

 

“Never, _ever_ hit a girl,” hissed the voice above me. I turned my head and found the corners of the bathroom leaking away into darkness, and the figure standing over me glaring evilly. 

“Ray, it wasn’t her, it wasn’t her!” my voice strained by be heard over the pounding of the drums in my head, over the beats slamming through the walls. Ray just stared at me. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It wasn’t her! Where is she? It took her! It was gonna hurt her!” I cried, my voice high and broken, bouncing off the walls and hitting me in the face. My blood splatter was smiling at me. It understood me. 

“Nothing took Em, you retard! You just attacked her! She’s in tears now, do you know what you did to her?” he cried, bending down to grab my shoulders and shake me. I stared at him, mouth gaped wide. 

“Wh-what? What’s going on?” I whimpered, hot tears leaking out of my bloodshot eyes. My hands shook as I tried to force Ray’s hands off my shoulders

 

_Find in me the hope_

_That you have never known_

_Find in us the faith_

_The faith to bring you home_

 

“What happened?!” I shrieked, throwing him off me. He looked at me like I was crazy, like I was a psychopath he feared. I wasn’t little Frankie Iero anymore, I was something else. I was evil. And I didn’t understand why.

“Where’s Emily?” I said as soon as the screaming in my head took a breath. Ray looked at me evenly, jaw gritted as he blocked my exit. He towered over me, I’d never get past him. 

“She’s outside, with Gerard and Mikey, they’re looking after her,” he said calmly. I sighed, thanking God quickly, rubbing the sweat from my eyes, my fingers shaking. 

“Frank – why did you attack her?” he asked a minute later. My head jerked violently. 

“I didn’t, Ray!” I gasped, shocked. “I’d never attack her! Not on purpose!” I gasped, shaking my head. He kept staring at me, my skin began to crawl under his gaze. 

“What do you think happened?”

“She…she wasn’t there, something else was...everything’s wrong, they’ll still out there, it’s still trying to get her, I know it! It tried to take her away, it touched me and I fought back, it wasn’t her, it wasn’t HER!”

My yell made my lungs burn, made Ray step back, hands up. I was just a wild animal to him now. 

 

_I stared into oblivion_

_And found my home_

_I stared into oblivion_

_And found my home_

 

“Dude, calm down, you’re having an episode, you’ve got to calm down,” he said tensely, walking towards me slowly. I tried to back away, my wall hitting my back. Cold spread through my limbs. Fear. 

“No…” I moaned, tears blinding me. “God no…”

 

_I stared into oblivion_

_And found my own reflection there_

 

I sunk to the floor, cradling my head and weeping like the biggest open wound of grief had just slashed me. I couldn’t believe it, I just couldn’t – my mind had taken Emily away from me. My crazy, broken head had turned her into a monster and I had attacked her, hadn’t I? It was my fault she wasn’t here with me. She hated me now, I was sure of it. I cried like a baby, mourning the loss of her love, of my sanity. 

Because, in realising what I’d done, all the sins I’d done, I lost my last shred of sanity. 

_You think that was the moment?_

The last coherent, sane thought in my head were me cursing myself…screaming at myself for being so weak, so disgusting that I let that happen to Em…

_What do you think you did to her?_

My nails scraped and cut her face, I scratched her eyes, I tore her arms, I cut her arms…she was bleeding and crying and so scared of me. I punched her and beat her head against the wall until everyone there, the demons and sinners, pulled me away.

_Did you see the damage you did?_

Excuse my laughter, of course I did. In my head, anyway. That’s the formula – remember? It’s all in my head really, it’s all part of this complicated melodramatic fairytale and I knew what every blow looked like as I dealt it. 

_Technically…_

Technically this is real, but to me it isn’t. Don’t assume just because I’m the one in the jacket and you’re the one in the chair that mine’s not real and yours isn’t some elaborate fairytale as well

_I think you might be –_

Oh come on, it happened to me, it could easily happen to you. Sorry.

_Do you want to sleep?_

I’ve been asleep for twelve years – no. 

_Do you want me to leave?_

So I can talk to the walls and the camera who watches me sleep? To laugh at the air and watch her dance in the corners, blowing kisses? God I love her…

  _She’s still there?_

She can’t leave. She’s mine. 

“She’s mine,”

“Frank?”

_Frank?_

“She’s mine,” I whispered again. Body rising from the floor, bloody nails hanging by my sides. Strips of flesh dripping down my hands. Light creeps across my face, and he looks at me. Shock. Disgust. Horror – it makes him back away. 

 

_Home, now that I'm coming home_

_Will you be the same as when i saw you last_

_Tell me how much time has passed_

 

I guess smiling didn’t help him. 

I feel cold air brush my face, the ribbons of blood streaked down my eyes. I shiver and my legs move. Walking on the air, guided by it. I can hear music, gentle beats, rhythms of bodies and pulses, hands and eyelashes and smiles. Juliet loves the beat…and the lust it commands. 

“Drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands, Romeo,”

The words don’t make sense, why should they? I don’t write them for years in someplace and in weeks in another. The door opens. The blood stain’s still smiling at me. I smile back and laugh, the bullet of it clanging off the wall, as he cowers from me. Cowers. I think I like this power. 

The world is dark. Night. I touch the wall and it glows under my fingertips, the lines of blood from my hands leaving lit trails of light. They show me the way, weaving like vines, interconnecting, branching, dancing like red inky light trails. They show me the hormones of the demons lining the hall. Resting, corroding. Beasts. Deformed, grotesque. One stands in my path. Hair like raven’s wings. A ribcage glowing blue in the light cast by my blood. Her hands weave in front of her in a static dance. She beckons. 

 

_I stared into oblivion_

_And found my home_

 

Whatever words issue steaming from her lips are broken, cracked, like shards of glass twinkling in the darkness, brittle ice in the frosty steam. I ran my hand over the shapes they make, sense escaping each figure. She shakes her feathers at me, I’m not listening and she turns in a blaze of lace and skeletons in her wake. I knew her. S…s…s…

She smelt like dead flowers. Noxious and sweet. My tongue tingled.

 

_I stared into oblivion_

_And found my home_

 

The sting of blood, the urging of fingers around my wrists, ghostly pulls, led me forward. Hours passed since I sank to the floor, a worm, and rose like a God. Hours and hours. The blood stemmed, the cuts cleaned, my bruises cared for on her body. Kissed by someone who should have never touched them. Someone I thought I loved. 

If only I hadn’t thought it first, considered it. Fleeting moments of sanity would have taught me that. If only I listened, if only I opened my eyes. My other eyes. Wake up, my love. I’m broken. Make me. 

 

_I stared into oblivion_

_And found my own reflection there_

 

The moment I stepped forward a domain into a garden lined with my bloody lights, I knew the foreboding I felt like a betrayal. This was how Abel felt as Cane beat  down upon him. A brother against a brother. The lamb slaughtered between them. 

I cast my eyes, all of them, on the sight and felt the coldness freeze the light. 

My brother, the only one I trusted, loved, adored, my best friend. In the arms of my girl, my beautiful blue monster, her black-laced skin under his hands, her pink nail varnish in his hair, her silvered lips against his. Blood dried and eyes soft. Lost in their own cataclysm. 

Leaving me to my own personal apocalypse.

 

_Home, now that I'm coming home_

_Will you be the same as when I saw you last_

_Tell me how much time has passed_

 

_I stared into oblivion_

_And found my own reflection there_


	25. Sleep

_Some say, now suffer all the children_

_And walk away a saviour,_

_Or a madman and polluted_

_From gutter institutions._

 

 I lay on the floor. At least, I think it’s the floor. It’s breathing, heaving with every ragged sob billowing from my mouth. Grimacing. Wincing. Gripping the liquid floor as I suffocated myself with each screaming intake. 

How could she?

How could he?

How could I?

 

_Don't you breathe for me,_

_Undeserving of your sympathy,_

_Cause there ain't no way that I'm sorry for what I did._

 

It was my fault, my own stupid fault. I fell to pieces, I attacked her. I cut her and bled her and drove her away from me in more ways than tearing her hair out could have done. I knew it. I knew it at every motion, I saw the damage as I inflicted it. 

It’s because it’s not real. 

The floor rippled beneath me, the thought whispering through it. Soon the whole room is awake with the idea. That it’s not real. It’s as if the room is staring, watching, gasping, an audience too shocked not to look away, or a crowd turning cold shoulders. How dare I question existence. 

Why should I believe you?

 

_And through it all_

_How could you cry for me?_

 

_Cause I don't feel bad about it._

 

Pain is pre-programmed. Love is complete in it’s mythical beauty. Smiles are painted. Tears are photshopped. Everything I have said. Seen. Done. Thought. It has all been part of this elaborate, overwhelming, beautiful dream, this life I made from myself. 

It’s not real. 

Not without her. 

“Emily,” I whispered, my black tongue leaking vines. Dripping with venom – she did this to me. I did it to her. Without me, she would never have come into my plane of existence. Her blue hair never would have brushed over my skin. Her lips would never have kissed my cheek, her tongue never licked my navel. Her eyes which only sparkled the way I wanted them to. Her words which only said the right thing. Her polka dot panties. Her silver nail polish. Her pop tarts and her trailing rainbow laces. Her safty pin jeans and her laughter. She was my yin.

The yin I made for my yang. 

 

_So shut your eyes,_

_Kiss me goodbye,_

_And sleep._

 

And she, like a character at the plot twist of a movie, betrayed me for my best friend. 

The veins dripped down my chin, encircled my neck in cool embraces. I gulped, my Adam’s apple brushing against the cool touch. I felt two perfect salty tears slide down my cheeks. I wanted them to, even if I didn’t. 

My head was breaking. 

Bursting into colour like a flower. 

 

_Just sleep._

 

“Emily,” I whispered again. 

My world was growing dark around the edges of my eyes. The world beyond this room didn’t exist. The hospital beds weren’t beeping. The morgue lights weren’t flickering. I was alone. In myself. 

I saw her smile in a fleeting blink of my eye. Static welcomed her eyes. I closed myself off to her. Her perfect character, her infectious personality. I made her perfect and now I hated her for it. And Gerard. 

“Gerard,”

I wanted him to be sorry, to repent, to scrap forgiveness. I knew he would. He didn’t have a choice. Even to exist, to play a part in my sick twisted nightmare. 

They didn’t even buy tickets for this nightmare – they were caught in it, like a trap, like a fucking death sentence spiderweb. My laughter didn’t sound right to my ears for the first time in my entire life. I was sick. I wasn’t right. 

 

_The hardest part is letting go of_

_Your dreams._

 

I wasn’t real. 

“I’m not real…” I laughed, head slipping down into the liquid pool of tile, my body heaving as I laughed. Air scorched my lungs like cigrette smoke. Cheap and pointless – it didn’t even taste of anything. It never had. 

It didn’t even fucking smell. 

So much for the mind being the ultimate illusionist, this was a shitty nightmare. I opened my eyes, I banished her smile until I created it again. Only it wasn’t smiling. 

“Oh Frank…” I wanted her voice to sound that way – tragic with a capital T, baby. 

I had made her too beautiful to exist. Funny, when she first spawned herself from myself, she was chunky, realistic, her make up was too heavy, her clothes too tight. Now, she was transformed. Perfect curves, perfect eyes – she became too perfect to exist really, what a fucking joke. 

Someone give her a fucking award for the performance she gave. First class, all the way. 

As she knelt beside me, a million fake memories flew back me, reminding me of the life I imagined between us. I saw her hair glinting in the sun as we cycled down the pavilion. Where did our bikes come from? I saw her dancing in the shower, her hips swaying in time with the words she sang. I saw her mounted on top of me, sweating in that gorgeous glowing way. Light moved towards her. 

 

_A drink for the horror that I'm in,_

_For the good guys, and the bad guys,_

_For the monsters that I've been._

 

Always towards her. 

I smelt the scent of warm apple pie as she leant down, kissing my forehead. 

Her fingers touched the deep cuts on my arms. Gerard’s razor, the only part I didn’t think through, lying uselessly on the floor. My hands were numb. My wounds stung from cool air she blew onto them. 

“Oh Frank!” 

Tears? For me, precious? Oh no, couldn’t be, someone as sick and disillusioned as me doesn’t need, want, deserve such star studded treatment. Her tears kissed my eyelids, dripped down my sweating, wet face. I gasped for her scent – indulge the thought. Indulge it, you spineless worm. 

“Why, God, why?”

 

_Three cheers for tyranny,_

_Unapologetic apathy,_

_Cause there ain't no way that I'm coming back again._

 

Good question. Let me see you dance once again. Jumping on my bed in just your bra and panties – your necklace thudding against your breasts. 6655321 licking your knee as you lounge in the courtyard. Wet hair in the rain. Kissing and tasting the ice cream on your lips. I loved you. 

It’s a beautiful idea. Such a beautiful idea. Like a perfectly painted picture. Warm, colourful, brilliant in it’s simplicity. It’s brutality. It’s beauty. 

Her hands pulled me away from the sucking floor, pulled my limp, cooling body onto her hot lap. A lap I’d sat in many a morning, buried my face in, kissed and adored. Every inch of your body was scarred in this state, delicate shell of sanity. 

I’m sorry for laughing. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry,”

 

_And through it all_

_How could you cry for me?_

 

I want her to say these words, I want her to beg forgiveness, whisper them in my ear. It’s a bit too late, baby. I love you, none the less. 

 

_Cause I don't feel bad about it._

 

“Never…” My whisper scares her. “In my entire life…did I ever…”

 

_So shut your eyes,_

 

“Love anyone…”

 

_Kiss me goodbye,_

 

“The way…”

 

_And sleep._

 

“I loved…”

 

_Just sleep._

 

“You…”

 

_The hardest parts_

_The awful things that I've seen._

 

I fall into her dark embrace, shadowy clothes wrapped around her body shedding until; out skin touches again. Her lips curve against mine. Her hands hold me firm against her as my body fades into the sea like sand washed away. Sunset skies. Golden waters. Eternal rest. It’s an idea I really don’t hate. 

“Please…don’t leave me,”

Her pleas drop like withering leaves. I can’t bear to listen to them so she falls silent. She lies next to me now, naked body entwined in mine. Bleeding wrists slumped over her waists. She tells me in her gaze that my blood means more to her than her own pulse. My slows. 

 

_Just sleep._

 

Drummer boy slows now. 

 

_Just sleep._

 

Boom…Boom…Boom…

 

_Just sleep._

 

Boom…Boom…

 

_Just sleep._

 

Boom…

 

_Just sleep._

 

Boom…

 

_Just sleep._

 

Boom…

 

_Just sleep._

 

“Frank…I love you…more than anything,”

It’s too little, too late, too deeply meant. 

“Em…”

Cold breath. Cold eyes. Frozen. Dead. 

Goodbye.

 

_Wake up!_

 

“Frank? Can you hear me? He’s blinking – we’ve got him!”

 

_The hardest part…_

_Is letting go…_

_Of your dreams…_


	26. I Knew I Loved You

_Maybe it's intuition_

_But some things you just don't question_

_Like in your eyes_

 

I’m lying in a hospital bed. The sheets are sticking to my arse and back – the covers are itching the top of my legs. I really don’t like it here. There’s a needle in my hand, and a tube stuck up my nose. They shaved my head and now I look like a fucking freak. I’m skin and bone and I smell like shit. 

But I’m alive. 

And they tell me I’m pretty much back. 

The last thing I remember was laughing, pointing at the sky, and falling over. They tell me I hit my head, that walking around building sites is a dumb idea without a hard hat. Who knew?

I’ve been out for a long time…a really long time. Mom’s sitting in the chair next to me – she looks nothing like I remember. Then again, six years can change a woman. I was 11 when I had my accident. I’ve been here six bloody years, unconscious and pumped full of drugs to keep me alive. And now, finally, they’ve managed to keep me awake for more than a few seconds. 

 

_I see my future in an instant_

_And there it goes_

_I think I've found my best friend_

 

I should’ve known. 

My dreams were far too perfect, and artistically perfect, to be real. The beautiful institution with fluffy cloud skies everyday. The brilliant green courtyard with the fountain that was never cleaned. The puppy which never grew older than six months. The best friends who did the same shit every week. The girl who messed up the life I’d created myself. The illness I never had, the friends I lost, the life I didn’t lead. 

Emily. 

She never existed. 

Mom thought I was crying because I woke up 17, and that I needed time to deal with losing so long and losing the life I thought I’d been living. She thought I needed to adjust, to cope. But all I needed to cope with was her loss. Emily. 

I loved her so much. Even if she didn’t exist. She was all I ever, ever wanted. I was in love with the idea of a girl that was so insane, too wonderful to ever exist. Too colourful, too wild, too delicate. 

 

_I know that it might sound more than a little crazy_

_But I believe_

 

My friends existed – I took them on from one world to the next with me. Gerard, the introverted Goth boy, the comic book artist, the shy horror movie lover who stood out with the white tiled walls more than a black ink blot on a white linen sheet. Mikey, the twitchy, lovable, giggly little brother of all of us. His instant charm to my mom and to any female was legendary enough to live on in my head. Ray, the musical genius, the loyal and secure and motivated motherfucker of the guitar. Bob, the affectionate, the quiet, the surprisingly hostility firm and sensible one. My friends. We snapped together like magnets – the six years apart were nothing. 

They couldn’t stop talking the piss of my bald head. They stopped laughing when they saw the scar on the top of my skull – the split which fucked me up worse than death. I got them laughing again when I said I’d grow a Mohawk and dye it black and blonde. 

Mom wasn’t impressed. 

 

_I knew I loved you before I met you_

 

When they let me out, it was weird to find how life didn’t quite work out right. When I touched a surface, I had no clue how it would feel, or how warm it was. I screamed when I first touched water after the accident. Everything seemed new and sharper somehow. I hated it at first. 

Sunlight and sunsets were exactly right though – the brilliant colours, the beautiful sights. I smiled and sighed as I watched the sun disappear behind the trees. No sea here, just acres and acres of land and suburban houses. 

Days went by slowly. One after another, and the nights dragged passed as well. I never forgot Emily, or who I thought she was. Her smile, her eyes, haunted me in the nights. I remembered the hot, steamy situations we found ourselves in. I remembered gate crashing my mom’s wedding with her in tow – the cake fight in the park. The moonlight dances on the roof. The hours of entertainment and fun she gave. She was the bright cartoon of my TV station. 

 

_I think I dreamed you into life_

 

Without her, the colour and the excitement of life just drained away. Someone had turned me off and cursed me to boredom without her. I missed her more than I ever thought I would. She was my secret – I told no one about her, not even Gerard, my best friend to end all friendships. 

A fictional character whom I had fallen deeply and insanely in love with. 

The therapist must have thought I was crazy…

“I don’t think I really know why I’m in love with her…I just am,” 

_“But you have an idea?”_

“Maybe. Ask a man what he hums and he’ll give you an answer. Ask a man why he hums, and he can’t tell you why. I know I know the answer, but the words to explain it aren’t made up yet, y’know?”

_“Maybe, I’m not sure I know what you want me to tell you.”_

“Tell me I’m not crazy, for starters. “

_“That, I don’t think I can do – this isn’t about me. Do you think you’re crazy?”_

 

_I knew I loved you before I met you_

 

“Hahaha! Do I think I’m crazy? I’m in love! I’m obsessed with a girl with blue hair! I’m in love with rainbows and ice cream and smiles and stripy tights and bright green and silver nail polish – her dormobile and her smiley dog and her San Fran dreams. I’ve got voices telling me lies and I’m lost in watching her dance in her underwear – she wears the sexiest underwear. She always did…black and lacy and sexy. I wanted to pull it off with my teeth. She tasted like heaven,” 

 

_I have been waiting all my life_

 

_“Does she still?”_

“No…more like poptarts.” 

_“Do you like poptarts, then?”_

“Not as much as I love Emily.” 

_“Loved…”_

“Yeah, sorry, loved,”

Loved. 

 

_I knew I loved you before I met you_

_I think I dreamed you into life_

_*     *     *    *_

 

Days, weeks, months, years. God, I hated them. With each one I became more and more restless, the mirror image of my character in my head. Every hour asleep was an hour wasted. Every hour awake was a chase to escape the pain of losing someone whom never existed. I drank, I popped, I ran and screamed and laughed and danced. I played like a wild man, my fingers strumming until they blistered. I partied, I kissed and fucked and lived it up as high as heaven itself. I was restless, unstoppable. We all were. 

That’s how we got here – as far as this. Third album, the biggest and best one we’d done yet – worldwide tours and millions of screaming fans. They gave the rush, the thrill I needed to fill my empty life if only for a few hours a night. My friends, my band mates, did they part too – I would have been lost so many times if it weren’t for my loyal friends. I owed them my life.  

 

_There's just no rhyme or reason_

_Only the sense of completion_

 

But, nevertheless, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t whole, I wasn’t complete. 

The volume was there in my life, but the image was black and white. The colour was drained. She was still the full stop of every sentence, the conclusion of every thought. She danced through my skull every minute of every day. I fell asleep with her face in my eyes, woke with her name on my lips. My pen carved out her turquoise locks, her dark eyes whenever idle. My fingers traced the duvet covers, searching for a slip of warm skin. 

But there was nothing. Thin air. Empty illusions. Broken dreams. 

“Cheer up, Frank, we’re going to go get coffee – you want some?” offered Gerard, punching my arm and smiling. I shook my head, his joy bringing a smile out of nowhere. 

“Nah, I’m good – I’m gonna go walk the town for a bit,”

“Ok, have fun, sound check’s at 5, ok?” grinned Gerard before he and Toro slipped off to feed their addiction, Mikey already well ahead of them. I hopped off the bus and pulled my hoodie over my head, fingers brushing the thick scarring under my hair. I pushed my sunglasses over my face and zipped myself up against the cool wind of San Fran in autumn. 

 

_And in your eyes_

_I see the missing pieces_

_I'm searching for_

_I think I've found my way home_

 

San Fran – Emily’s home, her dream home. It didn’t help matters. 

My feet led me idly through streets, eyeing up record stores and comic books stores closed down for the day. This is why I hate Sundays. Bored, chilly, I went in search of a café, thinking maybe a coffee was a good idea after all. Eventually, I found out – a little bit south of a coffee shop though. A tiny hole in the wall punk rock club. As soon as I walked in, I unzipped my jacket and found my way to the bar. 

There was a band setting up for a performance later that evening – the frenzy reminded me of our earlier set ups. I eyed the set as they worked, the brightly coloured fairy lights, the large backdrop of a city skyline in ruins, crowned in flames and screaming the words AGGRESSIVE LITTLE GIRLS. The name reminded me of something someone told me once…I was certain I’d heard of this band before…

I shook my head, I couldn’t place it. I ordered myself a coffee and winked at the cute bargirl. 

 

_I know that it might sound more than a little crazy_

_But I believe_

  
”Dude! No! The inflatable sheep goes on the other side of the drum kit!”

A girl’s voice shot across the tiny dance floor. The girl herself came out from behind the bar, where the toilets were. I glanced at her as I sipped my coffee and almost choked. She ran past me, almost obliviously. I knew her eyes caught mine for that split second, then she was gone in a haze of bright blue locks. 

I turned quickly, watching her ran over to her band, and start laughing, telling them all the inflatable Brad Pitts and sheep were in the wrong places. My jaw dropped as I watched her move across the stage – I recognised those shapely fishnetted legs, those scuffed army boots and those trailing rainbow trails, destroyed in years of muddy puddle walking. The short black skirt around a bovine behind, the slim waist and the amazing breasts in the tight corset top. The bracelets, the choker. The peep of a lacy black bra strap down around her shoulder. The smile, the laughter, the eyes – the hair. 

I didn’t dream her…did I?

 

_I knew I loved you before I met you_

_I think I dreamed you into life_

 

“Come on guys, the sooner we finish this, the sooner we can start drinking!”

Popcorn. Smiles. Rainbows. Dancing in the rain. Moonlight kisses. It all flooded in like a broken dam. I dared to hope against all hope. My feet led me closer. 

“Hello?”

 

_I knew I loved you before I met you_

 

She turned around and gave a small gasp, she recognised me too. It took me a second to understand why that was even possible. She swallowed, her eyebrows shooting up in shock and her eyes twinkling in…not just recognition but…reunion. 

 

_I have been waiting all my life_

 

“Emily?” I breathed, hardly daring to believe it. 

 

_A thousand angels dance around you_

 

 

“Hi,” she said, smiling. I smiled back. My head, like the flower it was, burst into colour again. I was lost, once again, in electric blue. 

 

_I am complete now that I've found you_

 

_I knew I loved you before I met you_

_I think I dreamed you into life_

 

 

** The End. **


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